m 


,i.  IIK  ARY 


ftluiueroitg   of   valifoni 


1.1 


No. 


Division 


Range 


1874 


•  K    •;:  '  •  ' 

'         '        •  •    -     • 

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Tin: 


WORLD    OF    MIND. 


AN  BLKMF.NTAKY   BOOK. 


BY    ISAAC    TAYLOR, 


Atrraoa  or  ••  vnurr  *m>  »i 


NEW    YORK 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN    SQUARE. 

1858. 


T3 


PREFACE 


THROUGHOUT  the  course  of  the  years  that  have 
elapsed  since  the  publication  of  a  small  volume,  "  El- 
ements of  Thought,"  I  have  held  in  view  the  purpose 
of  following  it  by  another  on  the  same  subjects,  but 
treated  more  at  large.  A  time  of  absolute  leisure, 
fitted  for  the  due  performance  of  such  a  task,  I  have 
waited  for  and  never  found. 

Yet,  in  place  of  a  continuous  season  of  leisure,  there 
has  been  given  me  the  leisure  moments  and  the  hours 
of  many  thoughtful  years.  During  these  years  the 
principal  subjects  of  Intellectual  Philosophy  have  been 
constantly  in  my  prospect,  and  the  volume  which  is 
now  offered  to  the  public  is  the  fruit  of  these  medita- 
tions in  this  lapse  of  time. 

Intending  to  put  into  the  reader's  hand  an  element- 
ary book  of  moderate  size,  such  subjects  only  are  in- 
troduced as  might  be  presented  apart  from  controver- 
sial references  to  books,  either  of  the  present  time  or 
of  times  past.  Any  such  references,  to  be  servicea- 
ble to  the  uninitiated  reader,  must  be  ample  and  com- 
prehensive, and  would  demand  space  very  far  exceed- 
ing that  to  which  I  have  here  confined  myself. 


IV  PREFACE. 

The  present  volume  embraces  only  a  portion  of 
those  subjects  that  should  find  a  place  in  a  course  of 
elementary  reading  in  Mental  Philosophy.  I  still 
keep  in  view  what  would  give  completeness  to  the 
plan  that  has  been  so  long  projected. 

I.  T. 

STANFORD  RIVEBS,  November,  1857. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  Statement  of  the  Subject 7 

II.  Distribution  of  the  Subject 23 

III.  METAPHYSICS:  Ultimate  Abstractions 26 

IV.  Metaphysics:  Mixed  Abstractions 44 

V.  Metaphysics :  Concrctive  Abstractions 56 

VL  Metaphysics :  The  Sense  of  Fitness  and  Order G4 

VIL  Metaphysics :  Grounds  of  Certainty  in  relation  to  Meta- 
physical Speculation 70 

Vin.  SCIENCE  OF  MIND-PHYSICAL.— The  Boundary 

between  Animal  Physiology  and  the  Science  of  Mind    96 

IX.  Breadth  of  the  World  of  Mind 104 

X.  Rudiments  of  Mind 131 

XI.  The  Point  of  Divergence  of  the  Higher  and  the  Lower 

Orders  of  Mind 145 

XII.  Intellectual  Emotions  and  their  Results 158 

XIII.  Contingent  Development  of  the  Intellectual  Faculties..  181 

XTV.  Language  as  related  to  Mental  Operations 189 

XV.  Relative  Value  of  Certain  Terms 205 

XVI.  The  Emotions:  Distribution  of  the  Subject 217 

XVTL  Emotions  related  to  the  Individual  Well-Being 224 

XVIII.  Cementing  Emotions  of  the  Social  System 246 

XIX.  Antagonistic  Emotions  of  the  Social  System 277 

XX.  Emotions  and  Tastes  related  to  the  Modulations  of 

Sound 288 

XXI.  Emotions  and  Tastes  related  to  the  Objects  of  Sight....  297 
XXII.  The  Relations  of  the  Human  Mind  to  the  Unknown  and 

the  Infinite 314 

XXIII.  Genera  and  Species  in  the  World  of  Mind 329 

XXTV.  Laughter  and  Weeping 350 

XXV.  Summary 358 


THE 


WORLD  OF   MIND, 


STATEMENT  OP  THE  SUBJECT. 

1.  A  DEFINITION  can  bo  strictly  applicable  only 
when  the  subject  to  which  it  relates  is  thoroughly 
known  to  us.     But  the  subject  now  before  us  includes 
much  that  is  obscure,  and  to  many  of  the  questions 
which  meet  us  on  this  ground  a  conjectural  answer 
only  can  be  given ;  we  therefore  abstain  from  attempt- 
ing that  which,  though  it  might  be  precise  and  exact 
as  to  the  terms  employed,  must  assume  more  than  is 
certain,  and  would  so  far  be  delusive. 

2.  In  place  of  a  formal  definition  of  what  wo  intend 
by  the  word  MIND,  or  by  the  phrase  THE  WORLD  OF 
MIND,  I  offer  a  descriptive  statement,  which  at  least 
will  serve  to  mark  off  our  proper  subject,  and  to  keep 
it  apart  from  other  subjects  to  which  it  stands  related, 
and  with  which  it  is  very  liable  to  be  confounded.    A 
descriptive  statement,  such  as  we  have  now  in  view, 
must  not  be  regarded  as  if  it  were  dependent,  in  any 
rigid  manner,  upon  the  precise  words  that  may  be  em- 
ployed to  convey  it.     Language  must  not  affect  to 
teach  more  than  is  actually  known. 


8  THL    WORLD  OF   MIND. 

3.  MIND,  so  far  as  we  are  cognizant  of  it  by  our  in- 
dividual consciousness,  and  by  our  intercourse  with 
those  like  ourselves,  and  by  observation  of  the  various 
orders  of  animated  beings  around  us,  although  it  is 
conjoined  with  an  animal  organization,  is  always  clear- 
ly distinguishable  therefrom  as  the  subject  of  intellect- 
ual science.     But  when  we  attempt  to  describe  it,  we 
can  only  do  so  as  if  it  were  one  with  that  animal  frame- 
work, apart  from  which  we  have  no  direct  knowledge 
of  it  in  any  way  or  in  any  single  instance. 

4.  HIND,  as  conjoined  with  an  animal  organization, 
is  that  which  lives,  not  merely  as  vegetable  structures 
live,  but  more  than  this ;  for  it  is  related  to  the  outer 
world  by  organs  of  sensation :  it  moves,  and  it  moves 
from  place  to  place  by  an  impulse  originating  within 
itself;  and  it  has  also  a  consciousness,  more  or  less 
distinct,  of  its  own  existence ;  that  is  to  say,  it  pos- 
sesses, in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  a  reflective  life,  and 
it  is  capable  of  enjoyment  and  of  suffering. 

5.  THE  WORLD  OF  MIND  comprehends  all  orders  of 
beings  that  exhibit  those  conditions  of  life  which  we 
here  specify.     The  world  of  Mind  is,  therefore,  a  wi<lc 
world ;  it  constitutes  a  community  that  is  incalculably 
extended  and  multiplied  on  all  sides ;  it  is  a  commu- 
nity in  the  midst  of  which  the  human  species  stands 
as  an   exceptive   instance,  in  two   respects  broadly 
marked — first,  by  the  vast  interval  which  separates  it 
from  the  classes  next  below  itself  on  the  scale  of  fac- 
ulty or  power;  and,  secondly,  in  a  numerical  sense, 
for  this  higher  order  of  Mind  is  but  as  one  to  millions, 
incalculably  many,  of  the  inferior  rank. 

6.  When  we  attempt  to  mark  off  the  world  of  Mind 


STATEMENT  OP  THE  SUBJECT.  9 

on  the  side  bordering  toward  the  lower  orders  of  life 
— namely,  the  vegetative — some  ambiguity  attaches  to 
many  of  the  instances  which  present  themselves  on 
that  margin.  But  the  question  which  often  perplexes 
the  physiologist,  when  he  inquires,  concerning  this  or 
that  species,  whether  it  should  be  accounted  animal  or 
vegetable,  is  wholly  unimportant  in  relation  to  our 
present  subject.  We  do  not  concern  ourselves  with 
.Mind  until  it  comes  to  manifest  itself  clearly  by  its 
own  distinctive  characteristics ;  and  these,  if  we  as- 
cend a  few  steps  only  on  the  scale  of  Animated  being, 
become  BO  strongly  marked  as  to  preclude  all  uncer- 
tainty. 

7.  Then,  as  we  thus  ascend,  step  by  step,  upon  this 
scale,  we  find  ourselves  in  the  company  of  beings  whose 
actions,  and  whose  modes  of  adapting  themselves  to 
the  influences  and  the  accidents  of  the  external  world, 
are  readily  interpretable  by  means  of  our  own  con- 
sciousness and  our  own  modes  of  action.     This  crite- 
rion, if  there  were  no  other,  would  sufficiently  serve 
the  purpose  of  assigning  any  particular  class  of  beings 
to  its  due  place,  as  belonging  to  the  upper  or  to  the 
lower  orders.     It  is  by  this  rule  of  analogy  that  we 
admit  any  species  into  the  community  of  Mind,  or  dis- 
allow its  claims  to  this  distinction. 

8.  When  the  orders  around  us  are  considered  phys- 
iologically as  distributable  into  classes,  genera,  spe- 
cies, according  to  their  visible  characteristics,  they  are 
incalculably  many ;  but  if  we  pay  attention  to  the  very 
same  classes  of  beings,  ceasing  to  regard  their  contour 
and  their  animal  structure,  and  if  we  think  only  of 
those  elements  of  Mind  that  are  indicated  in  their  in- 

A  2 


10  THE  WORLD  OP  MIXD. 

stincts,  their  habits,  and  their  spontaneous  movements, 
it  will  appear  that  the  grounds  of  distinction  among 
them  are  exceedingly  few.  Physiologically,  the  or- 
ders, the  classes,  the  genera,  and  the  species  are  count- 
less ;  considered  as  belonging  to  the  community  of 
Mind,  these  same  varieties  fall  under  four  or  five  class- 
es. Those  visible  and  palpable  differences  of  form 
and  structure  which  it  is  the  business  of  the  naturalist 
to  take  account  of,  do  not  go  deep  into  the  framework 
of  the  animal  system,  nor  touch  the  constitution  of  the 
mind ;  genera  and  species  belong  to  the  shell  of  life, 
not  to  its  kernel. 

9.  The  distinction  here  made  between  the  animal 
structure,  with  its  specific  contour,  and  its  functions, 
and  the  Mind,  is  the  ground  of  a  distinction  that  is 
sometimes  lost  sight  of  between  what  belongs  to  phys- 
iology and  what  comes  properly  within  the  limits  of 
the  Science  of  Mind.     The  two  sciences — the  physio- 
logical and  the  mental— do  indeed  run  parallel  through- 
out almost  their  entire  course,  and  they  often  intersect 
each  other ;  and  they  seem  to  be  so  intimately  blend- 
ed that  to  distinguish  the  one  from  the  other  is  some- 
times barely  possible.     Nevertheless,  as  we  shall  see, 
they  are  two  sciences,  not  one ;  and  the  facts  belong- 
ing to  each  are  susceptible  of  distinct  treatment.     A 
clear  perception  of  this  essential  difference  presents  it- 
self as  one  of  the  most  important  of  those  ends  which 
should  be  aimed  at  in  an  elementary  book  upon  intel- 
lectual philosophy.     It  is  not  merely  confusion  of 
thought,  but  a  crowd  of  positive  errors,  that  springs 
from  inattention  to  this  distinction. 

10.  MAN — beyond  comparison,  and  with  a  vast  in- 


STATEMENT  OP  THE  SUBJECT.         11 

terval  between  him  and  the  animal  orders  around  him 
— takes  the  highest  place  in  the  world  of  Mind,  so  far 
as  that  world  is  known  to  us.  But  the  curious  ques- 
tion presents  itself,  Is  he,  indeed,  the  chief  in  that 
community  ?  Conjectures,  founded  upon  those  analo- 
gies which  wo  see  to  abound  in  the  material  system, 
present  themselves  on  this  ground,  in  support  of  a  be- 
lief that  there  are  orders  of  beings  as  much  superior 
to  man  as  he  is  superior  to  others.  Now  it  is  not  the 
office  of  science  to  step  forward  and  contradict  any 
surmises  of  this  sort ;  in  truth,  science  must  violate 
its  own  rules,  and  must  become  conjectural,  before  it 
could  make  any  such  attempt  But  then  these  con- 
jectures, or  any  hypothesis  concerning  an  intellectual 
community  existing  beyond,  or  beside,  or  above  the 
human  system,  do  not  come  within  the  range  of  scien- 
tific inquiry.  This  is  a  caution  which  should  be  early 
given,  and  should  always  be  kept  in  view.  Science 
has  to  do  with  facts,  and  with  those  inferences  from 
facts  which  may  be  derived  from  them  on  warrantable 
principles  of  reasoning. 

11.  A  uniform  adherence  to  this  rule  will  enable  us 
to  steer  clear  of  controversies,  the  introduction  of  which 
has  given  color  to  the  supposition  that  intellectual 
philosophy  is  concerned  with  obscure,  indeterminate, 
and  indeterminable  questions,  that  are  equally  fruit- 
less and  hopeless  of  any  intelligible  result. 

12.  In  this  place  we  need  only  mention  two  such 
controversies,  in  which,  though  they  are  as  ancient  as 
human  speculation,  no  progress  has  hitherto  been  made 
toward  the  solution  of  the  problem  they  profess  to  deal 
with.     On  each  side  an  hypothesis  is  assumed,  which, 


12  THE  WORLD  OF  MIND. 

as  it  can  neither  be  proved  nor  disproved  in  a  conclu- 
sive manner,  leaves  the  two  standing  to  threaten  each 
other  with  demolition.  While  they  do  so,  the  two 
neutralize  each  other  as  to  any  influence  they  might 
exert  upon  the  course  of  science.  Thus,  on  one  side, 
it  has  been  maintained  that  THOUGHT,  or  MIND,  is  noth- 
ing more  than  a  function  of  the  animal  organization  ; 
that  consciousness,  feeling,  reason,  are  secretions  from 
the  brain  and  nervous  substance  throughout  the  body, 
and  that,  therefore,  the  alleged  distinction  between  ani- 
mal physiology  and  the  science  of  Mind  is  illusory, 
or  that  it  can  be  admitted  only  as  a  matter  of  conven- 
ience in  teaching  dissimilar  portions  of  the  one  philos- 
ophy of  animal  life.  On  the  other  side,  it  has  been 
affirmed,  and  at  least  with  an  equal  show  of  reason, 
that  the  material  world,  with  its  imagined  organiza- 
tion, is  a  supposition  only — an  hypothesis,  of  which 
there  is,  and  can  be,  no  proof.  MIND,  it  is  said — 
thought  and  feeling — is  the  one  and  only  substance ; 
it  is  the  one  and  only  reality  in  the  universe.  The 
external  world,  as  we  call  it,  is  a  function  of  Mind,  or 
it  is  one  of  its  products.  On  this  theory,  as  well  as 
on  the  one  above  mentioned,  the  alleged  distinction 
between  animal  physiology  and  the  science  of  Mind 
must  be  considered  as  unreal,  and  it  can  be  admitted 
only  for  convenience  sake  in  treating  various  portions 
of  the  one  philosophy  of  human  nature. 

13.  Hitherto,  and  after  centuries  of  acute  disputa- 
tion, no  decision  has  been  arrived  at  between  these 
antagonistic  theories ;  nor  are  they  susceptible  of  a  com- 
promise. There  is  now  as  little  prospect  as  ever  there 
has  been  of  our  reaching  a  conclusion  which  shall  be 


STATEMENT   OF  THE   SUBJECT.  13 

generally  assented  to.  Yet,  in  the  present  tendency 
of  philosophical  inquiry,  there  is  a  good  prospect  of 
what  would  be  equivalent  to  a  termination  of  the  de- 
bate, namely,  a  clear  perception,  on  all  sides,  of  the 
fact,  that  neither  of  these  theories  can,  in  any  appreci- 
able manner,  interfere  with,  or  in  the  least  degree  con- 
trol, the  course  of  genuine  science.  On  either  hy- 
pothesis we  shall  be  called  to  give  attention  to  the 
very  same  facts,  and  then  we  must  reason  concerning 
them  on  the  very  same  principles,  and,  at  length,  we 
must  come  to  the  very  same  conclusions.  This  in- 
consequence of  the  two  theories  will  become  still  more 
manifest  as  we  advance.  The  two  theories  will  come 
to  be  considered  in  their  place,  among  other  curious 
and  barren  products  of  the  abstractive  faculty. 

14.  When  it  is  affirmed — as  we  now  affirm — that 
within  the  regions  of  intellectual  philosophy  we  are 
occupied  with  facts,  and  with  warrantable  inferences 
from  facts,  it  must  not  be  supposed  that,  in  this  de- 
partment, the  same  approach  toward  indisputable  con- 
clusions has  been  made  as  in  the  mathematical,  or  even 
in  the  physical  sciences.  This  is  far  from  being  true. 
Although,  in  one  sense,  we  know  more  of  Mind  than 
we  can  ever  know  of  matter,  in  another  sense  we  know 
much  less ;  or,  rather,  there  is,  on  this  ground,  less  of 
that  sort  of  knowledge  which  can  be  reported  and  spread 
out  to  view  in  a  distinct  manner.  In  all  departments 
of  philosophy,  human  curiosity  is  stopped  at  an  earlier 
or  at  a  later  stage  by  an  impassable  barrier — it  meets 
what  is  inscrutable.  The  constitution  of  the  elements 
in  the  material  world  is  inscrutable ;  the  gravitating 
force,  and  the  principle  of  chemical  affinity,  and  the 


14  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

nature  of  light,  and  the  principle  of  vegetative  life, 
these  things  are  utterly  inscrutable ;  so,  also,  is  the 
principle  of  animal  life ;  and  so,  in  like  manner,  but 
not  more  so,  is  MIND.  At  all  these  points  alike,  and 
as  to  each  of  them  for  the  same  reasons,  we  reach  a 
limit  which  the  human  mind  has  never  yet  passed. 
But  it  is  not  true  that  Mind  is  more  occult,  as  to  its 
inner  nature,  than  is  matter,  or  than  the  principle  of 
vegetative  and  animal  life ;  they  are  exactly  as  much 
so,  and  not  more.  But  there  is  here  a  difference  to 
be  noted  which  must  not  be  lost  sight  of: 

15.  In  all  departments  of  the  physical  sciences  and 
of  natural  history,  the  facts  which  we  have  to  do  with 
are  various  and  countless  ;  and  they  are  also  definite, 
and  palpable,  and  visible :  it  becomes  our  business  to 
classify  innumerable  forms — and  each  attractive  in  its 
way — and  to  ascertain  the  diversified  functions  of  many 
orders  of  organized  beings.     In  each  department  of 
these  sciences,  whoever  devotes  himself  to  it  finds  that 
there  is  before  him  the  occupation  of  a  life.     lie  knows, 
indeed,  that  a  mystery  which  he  will  never  penetrate 
stands  in  advance  of  him,  but  then  it  is  placed  at  the 
remote  end  of  his  inquiries ;  if,  once  and  again,  he 
looks  out  toward  it,  he  is  quickly  called  off  from  the 
pursuit  of  a  fruitless  speculation,  and  he  gladly  returns 
to  a  field  of  profitable  labor  and  inquiry — a  field  on 
which  there  are  inexhaustible  riches  to  be  gathered 
and  housed. 

16.  In  the  region   of  intellectual  philosophy,  the 
whole  aspect  of  things  is  of  another  sort,  for  in  this 
department  the  facts  we  have  to  do  with  are  few,  and, 
in  the  mode  in  which  the  science  is  usually  presented, 


STATEMENT  OF  THE   SUBJECT.  15 

these  few  facts  assume  a  very  meagre  appearance. 
Moreover,  there  is  much  on  this  ground  that  is  dimly 
seen  and  that  is  confusedly  apprehended ;  and  then, 
at  the  last,  the  matured  fruits  of  much  patient  thought 
must  be  consigned  to  popular  language,  which,  at  the 
best,  is  a  precarious  medium  for  the  conveyance  of  ab- 
stract notions. 

17.  Hence  it  is  that,  at  an  early  stage  of  our  prog- 
ress on  this  ground,  we  feel  as  if  we  had  exhausted 
our  materials,  and  must  go  in  quest  of  occupation. 
We  soon  find  ourselves,  therefore,  in  front  of  that  bar- 
rier which,  in  the  departments  of  physics,  of  chemistry, 
of  physiology,  and  of  natural  history,  is  always  a  long 
way  in  advance  of  our  position,  while  we  are  occupied 
with  what  engages  every  faculty.     In  the  philosophy 
of  Mind  we  become  impatient  to  push  forward,  and 
yet  find  that  we  can  not  do  so.     We  are  apt,  there- 
fore, to  imagine  that  much  more  of  mystery  attaches 
to  the  world  of  Mind  than  belongs  to  the  world  of 
matter;  or  that,  while   the  visible  universe  may  be 
freely  explored  in  all  directions,  a  pall  which  we  can 
never  lift  rests  upon  the  intellectual  universe.     We 
shall  see  that  this  is  not  the  fact.     The  mystery  is 
just  as  dark  in  the  one  case  as  it  is  in  the  other ;  the 
ultimate  problem  which,  on  all  sides,  arrests  human 
curiosity,  is  as  insoluble  in  the  one  case  as  it  is  in  the 
other;  the  only  difference  is  this — that,  in  the  one 
case,  it  stands  so  near  to  us  as  to  overshadow  our 
meditations  and  to  chill  our  energies,  while,  in  the 
other  case,  it  is  seen  only  as  a  cloud  in  the  horizon. 

18.  We  have  mentioned  a  disadvantage  which  is 
inseparable  from  our  present  subject,  arising  from  the 


16  THE  WORLD  OF  MIND. 

unfixedness  of  the  symbols  which  we  are  compelled  to 
employ,  namely,  the  terms  of  popular  parlance.  When 
facts  that  are  indistinctly  apprehended  come  to  be  dis- 
coursed about  in  terms  of  uncertain  or  of  variable  im- 
port, there  must  be  large  room  for  interminable  con- 
troversy. Then,  besides  these  occasions  of  debate, 
there  is  this — that,  although  intellectual  philosophy 
demands  certain  qualities  of  mind  which  are  not  the 
most  ordinary  for  its  successful  prosecution,  it  tempts 
many  to  enter  upon  it  who  are  neither  able  nor  are 
disposed  to  confine  themselves  to  a  strict  scientific 
style :  it  is  a  field  open  to  all,  and  which  is  wandered 
over  by  many  who  have  little  natural  aptitude  for  pur- 
suits of  this  kind. 

19.  Treatises  upon  the  physical  sciences  are  usual- 
ly introduced  by  historic  notices  of  the  progress  of 
discovery  in  that  department  from  the  earliest  ages  up 
to  the  present  time,  but  in  these  preliminary  surveys 
several  theories  and  systems,  long  ago  superseded,  are 
disposed  of  within  the  compass  of  a  paragraph  or  two. 
These  antiquated  theories  have  now  no  adherents,  and 
we  do  ample  justice  to  them  in  a  page.  It  is  not  so 
within  the  precincts  upon  which  we  are  about  to  en- 
ter. The  earliest  developments  of  thought  on  this 
ground  still  possess  a  claim  to  be  listened  to,  for  they 
may  be  as  good  as  some  of  later  date,  and  they  may 
be  preferable  to  the  very  last  that  have  appeared.  A 
consciousness  of  this  fact,  on  the  part  of  those  who 
profess  intellectual  philosophy,  has  induced  most  of 
them  to  treat  the  science  historically  and  critically 
rather  than  in  a  direct  and  didactic  manner ;  they  have 
not  merely  reported  ancient  opinions,  but  have  thought 


STATEMENT   OF   THE    SUBJECT.  17 

it  incumbent  upon  them  to  discuss  their  merits,  ap- 
proving or  disallowing  each  scheme  as  it  passes  in  re- 
view. 

20.  But  this  retrospective  style,  which  must  be  pro- 
lix, and  which  is  likely  to  be  wearisome  to  the  general 
reader,  is  far  from  being  adapted  to  the  purposes  of  an 
elementary  book.     Nothing  of  the  sort,  therefore,  is 
attempted  in  this  volume.     It  must,  however,  be  un- 
derstood and  supposed,  first,  that  the  writer  of  such  a 
book  has  acquainted  himself  with  his  subject  histor- 
ically ;  and,  secondly,  that  he  fairly  puts  his  readers 
into  position  for  understanding  more  elaborate  works 
on  the  same  subject,  if  any  of  them  should  wish  to 
acquaint  themselves  with  it  hereafter  in  a  more  careful 
and  ample  manner. 

21.  From  what  has  been  here  said  of  the  unfixed- 
ness  of  intellectual  philosophy,  and  of  its  being  open 
to  controversies  which  are  revived  from  time  to  time, 
it  must  not  be  inferred  that  every  thing  is  vague  and 
undetermined  within  its  precincts.     This  is  not  tho 
fact.     The  advance  and  consolidation  of  the  physical 
sciences  have  given  an  indirect,  and  yet  an  effective 
impulse  in  the  right  direction  to  the  science  of  Mind : 
a  real  progress  has  been  made ;  an  advanced  position 
has  been  attained,  from  which  we  are  not  likely  to  be 
dislodged.     Certain  illusory  and  sophistical  systems 
have  nearly  fallen  out  of  esteem,  and  perhaps  will  nev- 
er regain  their  influence.    At  this  time,  therefore,  there 
may  be  gathered,  from  the  works  of  modern  writers 
on  intellectual  philosophy,  what  might  be  called  a 
catholic  belief  concerning  the  intellectual  and  moral 
constitution  of  man.     These  appreciable  advances  to- 


18  THE   WORLD   OF   BUND. 

ward  an  accepted  system  warrant  the  expectation  that 
more  will  yet  be  done  to  give  the  subject  that  coher- 
ence and  fixedness  which  shall  entitle  it  to  a  place 
among  established  sciences. 

22.  It  is  reasonable  to  ask,  With  what  specific  in- 
tention is  it  that  we  should  enter  upon  the  ground 
which  is  now  before  us  ?     What  fruit  are  we  likely  to 
gather  in  our  course  over  it  ?  and  what  relation  does 
the  science  of  Mind  bear,  either  toward  other  sciences, 
or  toward  the  practical  purposes  of  life  ?     In  giving 
an  answer  to  questions  of  this  kind  (in  any  depart- 
ment of  philosophy),  those  who  profess  to  teach  it  are 
indulged  with  the  liberty  to  say  every  thing  that  can 
with  an  appearance  of  reason  be  alleged  in  its  recom- 
mendation, and  to  enhance,  as  far  as  possible,  as  well 
the  intrinsic  as  the  relative  importance  of  the  studies 
to  which  they  have  devoted  themselves  for  life.     The 
professors  of  intellectual  philosophy  have  usually  avail- 
ed themselves  of  this  license,  and  they  have  labored  to 
establish  the  opinion  that  many  extensive  reforms  and 
improvements — in  education,  in  politics,  in  social  econ- 
omy, and  in  morals  ;  in  law,  and  in  theology — would 
result  from  a  more  general  and  a  more  serious  pursuit 
of  it  than  is  usual.     Were  this  noble  science — the 
first  of  the  sciences — say  they,  to  be  listened  to  as  it 
ought,  the  above-named  sciences  and  social  arts  would 
take  a  new  start,  and  would  diffuse  unthought-of  bless- 
ings on  all  sides. 

23.  No  professions  of  this  sort  will  be  made  in  the 
present  instance,  for,  in  truth,  the  writer  entertains  no 
such  exalted  belief.     Nevertheless,  he  attaches  to  his 
subject  a  real  importance,  and  he  is  fully  of  opinion 


STATEMENT   OF  THE   SUBJECT.  19 

that  it  deserves  and  that  it  would  repay  much  more 
attention  than  it  generally  receives,  and  particularly 
that  it  might,  with  great  advantage,  be  employed  as  a 
means  or  an  instrument  of  education  during  the  later 
years  of  a  course  of  study.  It  is  greatly  with  a  view 
to  this  purpose  that  this  elementary  book  is  put  into 
the  reader's  hand, 

24.  Something  still  more  definite  than  this  may 
fairly  be  said  in  recommending  our  subject  to  the  in- 
telligent reader.     In  several  instances,  the  indirect  ef- 
fects of  a  course  of  study  are  of  more  importance  than 
any  direct  benefits  which  it  may  seem  to  hold  forth 
as  the  ends  or  reasons  why  it  should  be  prosecuted. 
This,  undoubtedly,  may  be  affirmed  of  classical  stud- 
ies.    The  direct  advantages  of  a  knowledge  of  the  lan- 
guages of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome  are  few,  or  they 
are  Buch  as  attach  only  to  certain  professions.     But 
when  they  are  regarded  as  supplying  the  means  of  cul- 
ture and  refinement,  no  other  pursuits  can  come  in  the 
place  of  them.      A  system  of  education  which  ex- 
cludes a  knowledge  of  Latin  and  Greek  may  meet  the 
occasions  of  common  life  well  enough,  but  it  can  never 
impart  refined  tastes,  or  give  a  full  expansion  to  the 
intellect. 

25.  As  much  as  this,  or  nearly  as  much,  may  be 
affirmed  in  behalf  of  intellectual  philosophy.     The  hu- 
man mind,  in  the  study  of  its  own  structure,  elabo- 
rates its  faculties.     In  these  studies  its  native  forces 
are  augmented,  and  habits  are  acquired  more  exact 
and  more  refined  than  such  as  are  formed  either  by  a 
mathematical  training  or  in  the  pursuit  of  physical 
science.     If,  therefore,  we  should  fail  to  make  a  good 


20  THE   WORLD    OF  MIND. 

plea  for  these  studies  on  the  ground  of  their  direct 
practical  utility,  we  should  certainly  succeed  in  recom- 
mending them  as  among  the  best  means  of  intellectual 
culture.  On  this  sure  ground,  therefore,  it  is  well  to 
take  our  stand.  In  religion,  in  politics,  in  social  econ- 
omy, the  current  of  public  thought  runs  strong,  and  it 
is  seldom  influenced,  in  any  appreciable  manner,  this 
way  or  that,  by  forces  so  attenuated  as  are  those  of  in- 
tellectual philosophy.  Nevertheless,  it  is  true  that 
some  men — a  few  they  will  be  as  compared  with  the 
mass — may,  in  these  studies,  find  the  means  of  ex- 
empting themselves,  individually,  from  the  violences 
of  that  current,  and  may,  from  this  higher  ground,  take 
a  wider  survey  of  social  interests. 

26.  But  to  some  minds  mental  science  will  be  more 
than  a  temporary  means  of  intellectual  culture ;  it  will 
be  more  than  a  method  of  training  resorted  to  in  the 
years  that  precede  a  man's  entrance  upon  the  business 
of  life.  The  world  of  Mind  will  be  the  home  of 
thought  to  a  few,  and  especially  it  will  become  such  if 
the  breadth,  the  height,  the  depth  of  this  universe  of 
life  are  fairly  opened  up,  and  if,  in  the  place  of  the  eva- 
nescent subtilties  of  a  cold  analysis,  there  is  brought 
before  us  the  boundless  objects  of  that  great  system 
throughout  which  the  energies  of  conscious  life  are  in 
course  of  development.  If  the  phrase  were  used  in  an 
emphatic  sense,  then  we  should  say  that  the  world  of 
Mind  is  the  real  world ;  and  if  only  it  be  set  forth  in 
its  vastness  and  variety,  it  will  draw  toward  itself 
those  spirits  that  are  the  most  alive,  and  with  whom 
feeling,  and  volition,  and  power — consciousness,  and 
reflective  action,  and  progress,  are  the  characteristics 


STATEMENT   OF  THE   SUBJECT.  21 

of  the  individual.  As  it  is  the  distinction  of  man  that 
he  turns  his  thoughts  inward  upon  the  centre  or  source 
of  thought,  so  it  is  the  characteristic  of  a  few  minds 
that  this  intensity  of  life  is  with  them  their  normal 
condition:  they  are  reflective,  by  eminence,  among  their 
fellows,  just  as  man  is  distinctively  reflective  among 
the  orders  around  him. 

27.  We  have  said  above  (17)  that  because,  in  the 
department  of  mental  philosophy,  we  sooner  than  in 
the  physical  sciences   arrive  at  that  barrier  beyond 
which  the  human  faculties  make  no  progress,  there  en- 
sues an  unfounded  supposition  that  a  mysteriousness 
attaches  to  the  former  from  which  the  latter  are  ex- 
empt.    We  have  shown  how  it  is  that  this  illusory 
notion  springs  up.     But  having  arisen,  it  is  always 
likely  to  float  about  in  the  regions  upon  which  we  are 
entering.    The  hold  it  takes  upon  minds  that  are  mys- 
tically disposed  is  strengthened  by  the  imperfections 
of  language.    Now,  therefore,  when  we  are  asking  what 
are  those  useful  purposes  which  may  be  secured  by 
making  acquaintance  witli  intellectual  philosophy,  our 
answer  is  this :  that,  in  doing  so,  we  set  ourselves  free, 
or  may  do  so,  from  the  influence  of  this  and  similar  il- 
lusions, and  thus  we  may  stand  safe  in  regard  to  those 
bootless  speculations  which  from  time  to  time  threaten 
the  subversion  of  the  most  momentous  truths. 

28.  Let  it  be  well  understood — once  for  all,  and  so 
that  we  shall  not  be  compelled  to  retrace  our  steps — 
that  the  unfathomable  abyss  toward  the  brink  of  which 
the  human  mind  is  ever  tempted  to  draw  near  is  as 
close  at  hand  in  the  fields  of  physical  science  as  it  is 
in  the  field  of  intellectual  philosophy ;   only  that,  in 


22  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

the  former,  we  are  longer  detained  from  looking  down 
into  it,  and  are  more  easily  diverted  from  our  purpose, 
and  are  sooner  induced  to  draw  back  from  the  border. 
If  we  convince  ourselves  of  this  fact — and  we  may 
easily  do  so — then  the  one  region  of  philosophy  be- 
comes as  clear  from  clouds,  and  as  open  and  safe,  as 
the  other.  There  are  no  mysteries  on  this  ground  if 
we  do  not  make  them,  or  there  are  none  with  which 
we  need  concern  ourselves,  if  only  we  adhere  to  the 
authentic  and  universally-admitted  rules  and  practices 
of  modern  science. 

29.  Still  it  must  be  so  that  to  some  this  region  will 
be  a  haunted  ground.  The  questions  that  meet  us 
stimulate  curiosity  in  minds  that  are  constitutionally 
inapt  for  abstract  thought,  or  are  incapable  of  strict 
analysis,  and  which  quickly  lose  their  grasp  of  what, 
for  a  moment,  they  have  apprehended.  Minds  distin- 
guished more  by  ardor  than  by  strength,  more  excur- 
sive than  analytic,  are  apt  to  imagine,  at  every  turn, 
that  a  startling  discovery  is  opening  before  them,  and 
that  to-morrow  they  shall  be  able  to  lift  the  veil  which 
so  long  has  concealed  "the  hidden  nature  of  things." 
Do  we  ask,  then,  what  is  the  utility  of  the  studies 
upon  which  we  are  entering  ?  This  if  no  other  useful 
result  may  be  secured,  namely,  an  exemption  from  the 
invasions  of  lawless  and  interminable  speculation. 


D1STKIBLT1ON    OF   THE    SUBJECT.  23 


II. 

DISTRIBUTION   OF   THE   SUBJECT. 

30.  IN  an  elementary  book,  the  rule  of  convenience 
in  the  order  of  subjects  is  usually  of  more  importance 
than  any  imaginary  good  resulting  from  a  strict  ad- 
herence to  a  more  exact  or  logical  method.     I  shall 
follow  this  rule  in  the   present  instance,  and  shall 
adopt  an  arrangement  which,  as  I  believe,  will  be  ad- 
vantageous to  the  reader,  although  it  deviates  from  the 
direct  path. 

31.  Looking  to  subjects  of  all  kinds  which  ordinarily 
take  a  place  within  the  circle  of  intellectual  philosophy, 
they  present  themselves  as  susceptible  of  an  obvious 
distribution  under  three  heads,  as  thus :  there  are  sub- 
jects belonging  properly  to  the  PHYSIOLOGY  of  MIND, 
or  psychology,  as  it  is  now  called ;   such  are  what- 
ever relates  to  sensation,  perception,  memory,  and  the 
like ;  secondly,  themes  of  a  more  abstruse  kind,  and 
which  may  be  designated  as  METAPHYSICAL  :  the  terms 
space,  time,  cause,  and  effect,  belong  to  this  depart- 
ment ;  thirdly,  there  is  what  constitutes  the  science 
and  the  art  of  logic,  which  undertakes  to  show  the 
methods  best  adapted  to  the  acquisition  and  to  the 
conveyance  of  knowledge,  as  well  as  the  methods  of 
reasoning  and  of  philosophizing  in  all  the  sciences : 
the  terms  induction,  deduction,  syllogism,  evidence, 
doubt,  belief,  and  the  like,  belong  to  this  third  de- 
partment. 


24  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

32.  This  same  distribution  of  subjects  (adopted  in 
a  book  long  ago  published*)  I  propose  now  to  adhere 
to,  with  this  difference  only,  that  we  shall  take  up  the 
three  in  a  different  order.     Metaphysical  abstractions 
are  a  product  of  the  human  Mind  when  the  faculty  of 
abstraction  has  been  called  into  exercise,  and  has  de- 
veloped  itself  in   some   good  degree  ;    therefore,   in 
strictness,  it  could  only  claim  a  subordinate  place  in  a 
scheme  of  mental  science,  for  the  subjects  it  includes 
are  fruits  or  results  of  a  certain  mental  faculty.     But, 
in  like  manner,  the  pure  mathematics  might  be  so  re- 
garded, for  these  also  are  a  product  of  the  same  faculty, 
although  employed  in  a  different  direction,  and  as  con- 
fined to  a  particular  class  of  ideas — those  of  number 
and  extension;   therefore   this   body  of  determinate 
thought  might  be  challenged  to  come  into  its  place, 
and  might  be  required  to  contain  itself  within  a  chap- 
ter of  a  treatise  on  mental  science.     But  a  method  of 
proceeding  such  as  this  would  be  highly  inconvenient ; 
nor  could  any  thing  that  might  be  said  in  favor  of  its 
logical  fitness  reconcile  us  to  so  arbitrary  a  course. 

33.  Whatever  the  human  mind  has  wrought  out  of 
its  own  stores,  or  chiefly  so,  by  the  exercise  of  its  in- 
herent powers,  and  with  little  aid  from  the  outer  world, 
might,  on  the  same  principle,  if  strictly  applied,  be 
assigned  to  its  place  in  a  comprehensive  scheme  of. 
mental   philosophy.     All   those   products   of  reason 
which  place  man,  when  cultured,  in  a  position  im- 
measurably in  advance  of  the  animal  orders  around 
him,  are  the  fruit  of  processes  of  thought,  in  the  course 
of  which  the  Mind — not,  indeed,  as  if  disjoined  from 

*  Elements  of  Thought. 


DISTRIBUTION    OF   THE   SUBJECT.  *  25 

the  material  world,  but  yet  as  holding  itself  off  from 
it — works  with,  and  upon  itself,  bringing  itself  to  a 
bearing  upon  the  external  world,  indirectly  only,  or  as 
if  at  nodes  of  its  orbit. 

34.  In  prosecuting  the  physical  sciences,  we  employ 
ourselves  upon  objects  or  phenomena  concerning  which 
we  can  know  nothing  by  anticipation,  or  any  otherwise 
than  by  observation  and  experiment ;   and  while  ac- 
quiring, in  this  way,  what  we  come  to  learn  of  the 
matt-rial  universe,  the  Mind  employs  its  faculties  un- 
consciously as  to  the  mechanism  of  its  own  powers  : 
it  would  be  absurd,  therefore,  as  well  as  inconvenient, 
to  bring  the  physical  sciences  into  their  places  as  chap- 
ters in  a  scheme  of  mental  philosophy. 

35.  Equally  inconvenient  would  it  be,  and  yet  not 
in  the  same  sense  absurd,  to  bring  mathematical  sci- 
ence into  its  place  in  such  a  scheme.     Less  inconven- 
ient, and,  on  some  accounts,  reasonable,  would  it  be 
so  to  treat  metaphysical  abstractions.     Yet  there  is  a 
reason  sufficient  for  keeping  these  also  apart,  and  for 
regarding  them  as  entitled  to  an  independent  treatment. 
In  like  manner  as  we  conceive  of  the  relations  of  ex- 
tension and  number  as  having  an  eternal  reality,  and 
accept  them  as  truths  unchangeably  certain,  even  if 
there  were  no  material  world,  and  if  there  were  no  cre- 
ated intelligences  to  apprehend  them,  so,  as  to  those 
abstract  notions  which  are  embraced  in  the  circle  of 
metaphysical   sciences,  we  imagine  them   to  be  un- 
changeably true,  and  believe  that  they  must  remain 
what  they  are,  although  all  minds  also  were  to  become 
extinct.     This,  at  least,  must  be  said,  that  these  ab- 
stract principles  have  an  aspect  of  independent  and 

B 


26  THE  WORLD   OF   MIND. 

unchangeable  reality,  such  as  compels  us  to  conceive 
of  them  in  this  way. 

36.  We  give  to  Metaphysics  the  foremost  place  in 
this  elementary  book  for  this  reason — that  if  we  suc- 
ceed in  setting  the  subject  clear  of  mystification,  and 
if  we  lay  down  a  safe  road  on  the  border  of  abysses, 
real  or  imaginary,  our  after-course  will  be  much  less 
perplexing  than  otherwise  it  might  be.     We  do  not 
commence  with  a  profession  that  we  shall  be  able  to 
send  a  plumb-line  into  the  depths  of  speculative  phi- 
losophy, but  this  we  may  do — we  may  show  a  margin- 
ground  upon  which  we  may  walk  with  satisfaction. 

37.  The  order  of  subjects,  therefore,  is  this :  First, 
we  take  in  hand  those  abstract  notions  which  belong 
to  Metaphysics ;  and  this  initial  work  may  quickly  be 
dispatched.     Secondly,  we  shall  have  before  us  a  wide 
field — the  physiology  of  Mind — Mind  as  known  to  us 
on  all  sides.     Thirdly,  Logic  will  come  to  be  consid- 
ered, or,  rather,  the  methods  of  reasoning  proper  to 
different  subjects. 


III. 
METAPHYSICS: 

ULTIMATE   ABSTRACTIONS. 

38.  THE  popular  belief  concerning  the  subjects 
which  are  now  immediately  before  us  is  this — that 
they  are  in  an  extreme  degree  difficult  of  apprehen- 
sion ;  that  they  are  obscure,  indeterminate,  and  such 
as  can  be  attractive  to  none  but  a  very  few  whose 
minds  are  peculiarly  constituted. 


METAPHYSICS:  ULTIMATE  ABSTRACTIONS.       27 

39.  A  supposition  of  this  kind  is  so  far  well  found- 
ed as  this — that  metaphysical  notions  are  not  to  be 
distinctly  apprehended  without  some  effort  of  attention 
or  labor ;  and  it  is  for  this  very  reason  that  they  may, 
with  so  much  advantage,  be  made  use  of  as  a  means 
of  intellectual  discipline.     Further  than  this,  the  pop- 
ular belief  is  well  founded ;  for  it  must  be  granted  that, 
when  metaphysical  problems  are  treated  controversial- 
ly, and  critically,  and  historically,  the  discussion  of 
them  drags  itself  out  to  great  length,  and  it  is  apt  to 
become,  at  every  stage,  less  and  less  intelligible,  and 
less  and  less  attractive,  except  to  a  very  few. 

40.  It  is,  or  it  may  be,  otherwise  if  only  the  limits 
of  the  human  faculties  in  this  region  are  seen  and  are 
regarded  ;  if  verbiage  be  avoided,  if  brevity  be  studied, 
and  especially  if  a  writer  in  this  department  be  free 
from  the  ambition  to  create  for  himself  a  reputation  as 
a  discoverer  or  as  a  reformer.     In  this  case  metaphys- 
ical science  may  be  simplified,  and  it  may  be  brought 
within  narrow  limits. 

41.  Great  freedom  in  the  use  of  language  may  safe- 
ly be  admitted  in  treating  the  physical  sciences,  be- 
cause the  things  which  are  spoken  of  are  near  at  hand 
— visibly  or  palpably,  whether  they  be  material  ele- 
ments or  organized  bodies,  so  that  if  any  ambiguity 
has  had  place,  it  may  at  once  be  dispelled  by  a  refer- 
ence to  the  objects  or  the  phenomena  in  question.    In 
mathematical  reasoning,  no  license  or  freedom  what- 
ever in  the  employment  of  its  symbols  can  be  allowed, 
or,  indeed,  could  be  desired ;  for  these  symbols  having 
a  fixed  connection  with  the  quantities  or  with  the  re- 
lations which  they  represent,  the  certainty  of  the  proc- 


28  THE    WORLD   OF   MIND. 

ess  of  reasoning,  in  any  case,  depends  upon  an  un- 
deviating  adherence  to  the  value  and  meaning  of  each 
term. 

42.  In  treating  metaphysical  abstractions,  we  can 
neither  avail  ourselves  of  the  advantage  of  making  a 
reference    continually    to    things    visible,   concerning 
which  we  are  reasoning,  as  we  do  in  the  physical  sci- 
ences, nor,  on  the  other  hand,  can  we  go  on  with  a 
chain  of  demonstrations  without  any  such  reference, 
as  in  mathematical  reasoning.     For  on  this  ground, 
that  is  to  say,  when  we  are  carrying  on  any  process 
of  thought  concerning  purely  abstract  notions,  ordi- 
nary language,  which  is  our  only  medium,  is  not  sus- 
ceptible of  any  such  fixedness  and  precision  as  be- 
longs to  geometric  and  arithmetical  symbols.     The 
remedies  applicable  to  these  inconveniences  are  two : 
the  first  is,  to  study  perspicuity  and  simplicity  in 
style ;  and  the  second  is,  to  be  on  our  guard,  at  every 
step,  against  the  easily-besetting  error  of  supposing 
that,  by  means  of  some  newly-phrased  expression  of 
abstract  notions,  we  have  penetrated  the  mysteries  of 
being,  and  have  placed  ourselves  in  advance  of  the 
philosophy  of  our  times.     The  only  advance  which 
the  human  reason  is  likely  ever  to  make  on  this  ground 
will  consist  in  the  final  removal  or  dissipation  of  imag- 
inary mysteries,  and  the  putting  out  of  fashion  all  at- 
tempted mystifications.    Whoever  shall  do  this  effect- 
ively will  have  rendered  a  good  service  to  abstract 
philosophy. 

43.  The  words  three,  Jive,  eight,  twelve,  have  no 
meaning  if  they  are  taken  purely  and  singly,  and  are 
held  apart  from  all  other  words  or  ideas.     But  they 


METAPHYSICS:    ULTIMATE   ABSTRACTIONS.         29 

may  acquire  a  meaning  in  two  ways — either  by  link- 
ing themselves  to  substantives,  such  as  the  words 
dice,  pence,  planets:  three  dice,  five  pence,  eight  plan- 
ets, twelve  men ;  or  otherwise  by  excluding  all  men- 
tal recollection  of  things  actual,  while  we  use  the  words 
as  expressive  of  certain  relations  that  subsist  in  and 
among  these  quantities,  as  thus :  3  +  5  =  8;  or8x!2 
=  96.  These  words,  or  the  figures  employed  for  con- 
venience to  represent  them,  when  they  have  thus  been 
packed  together,  acquire  a  significance  which  they  did 
not  possess  before ;  and  on  the  ground  of  these  ac- 
quired meanings  we  may  go  on  reasoning  without  end, 
and  with  the  most  absolute  security,  although,  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  longest  calculation, 
they  never  pass  from  their  purely  abstract  condition. 
The  reasoning  faculty  would  gain  no  aid,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  would  encumber  itself  by  endeavoring  to 
keep  hold  of  some  concrete  conception,  as,  for  instance, 
by  thinking  of  dice,  or  pence,  or  any  thing  else  at 
each  step. 

44.  But  in  entering  upon  the  region  of  metaphysical 
abstractions  we  do  not  find  it  so  easy  to  hold  these 
notions  in  their  purely  abstract  condition,  and  there- 
fore we  are  apt  to  seek  the  aid  of  frequent  exemplifi- 
cations or  instances.  It  is  only  as  the  result  of  much 
discipline  and  practice  that  we  can  follow  them,  and 
can  trace  their  relation  one  to  another  with  any  such 
ease  as  that  which  attaches  to  arithmetical  or  geomet- 
rical reasoning.  At  the  end  of  a  book  of  arithmetic 
various  examples  are  placed  before  the  learner  for  his 
exercise  in  applying  the  rules  which  he  is  supposed 
already  to  understand,  and  for  showing  him  how  these 


30  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

rules  may  be  made  available  for  the  purposes  of  com- 
mon life.  But  in  metaphysical  treatises  examples  are 
appealed  to  almost  at  every  step  for  the  purpose  of 
assisting  the  mind  in  its  efforts  to  retain  its  hold  of 
abstract  notions.  We  cross  and  recross  the  line  from 
the  abstract  to  the  concrete  continually,  lest  we  should 
lose  our  path. 

45.  It  is  necessary  to  keep  in  view  this  difference 
in  'method  between  mathematical  and  metaphysical 
science.     This  difference  does  not  go  to  prove  that  the 
one  class  of  abstractions   is  more  abstract  than  the 
other,  but  only  that  they  are  less  easily  kept  apart, 
and  less  easily  dealt  with  one  toward  the  other.     If 
mystery  seems  to  attach  to  the  one  class  rather  than 
to  the  other,  it  is  such  only  as  springs  up  in  each 
mind  from  its  own  confusions,  from  its  inaptitude,  or 
its  want  of  discipline,  or  perhaps  from  a  futile  attempt 
to  go  beyond  the  limit  which,  on  all  subjects  alike, 
mathematical,   physical,    and    metaphysical,    circum- 
scribes the  human  faculties. 

46.  After  I  have  ascertained  the  relation  of  the  hy- 
pothenuse  of  a  right-angled  triangle  to  its  two  sides, 
if  I  go  on  to  ask,  But  what  is  this  "  extension"  which 
I  have  assumed  to  be  reality,  and  which  sustains  this 
process   of  reasoning? — if  I  do  this,  I  lose  myself 
upon  an  endless  path,  or,  rather,  I  tread  a  circle  which 
brings  me  round,  ever  and  again,  to  my  starting-point. 
In  like  manner  it  is  that  we  come  to  a  limit  (as  above 
stated)  in  treating  of  metaphysical  abstractions.     Let 
us  only  be  aware  of  the  fact,  and  keep  to  our  line  ac- 
cordingly. 

47.  The  most  frequent  and  the  most  familiar  of  the 


METAPHYSICS:  ULTIMATE  ABSTRACTIONS.       31 

processes  of  abstraction  is  that  which  takes  place 
when,  in  looking  at  or  in  thinking  of  an  object  of  any 
kind,  we  mentally  put  one  of  its  properties  or  qualities 
in  the  place  of  another  of  the  same  order.  Thus,  if  a 
solid  sphere  be  in  view,  or  if  I  am  thinking  of  such 
an  object,  and  if  its  color  is  blue,  I  find  it  easy  to 
imagine  it  to  be  of  any  other  color — it  might  be  red 
or  yellow.  These  colors,  therefore,  are  in  idea  separ- 
able from  the  object  before  me.  I  can  think  of  them 
apart  from  it ;  I  can  take  them  up  in  turn,  and  can 
attach  them  to  or  can  detach  them  from  the  surface 
of  the  mass.  But  at  the  moment  when  I  attempt  any 
such  disjoining  of  qualities,  I  find  the  need  of  a  term 
— a  name,  without  the  aid  of  which  this  shifting  of 
my  own  conceptions  would  be  difficult.  This  need  of 
language  in  dealing  with  abstractions  becomes  more 
urgent  in  proportion  as  the  sensible  qualities  of  any 
objects  are  more  specific  and  peculiar.  Thus,  even  if 
I  might  perhaps  dispense  with  the  words  red,  yellow, 
blue,  in  thinking  of  those  colors  generally,  or  as  they 
are  seen  in  the  optical  spectrum,  I  can  not  do  so  when 
I  am  thinking  of  such  specific  tints  of  color  as  distin- 
guish iron,  silver,  zinc,  tin,  lead,  and  a  thousand  others. 
I  must  name  something  which  is  permanently  of  that 
precise  color,  and  this  name  fixes  itself  in  my  recol- 
lection by  its  recalling  other  sensible  properties  with 
which  it  is  always  in  fact  associated :  thus  the  color 
of  zinc,  as  distinguished  from  the  color  of  tin,  keeps 
itself  distinct  in  my  thoughts  by  help  of  its  combina- 
tion with  the  weight,  the  feel,  the  hardness,  and  the 
taste  and  smell  of  the  two  metals  ;  the  compound  term, 
color  of  zinc,  serves  to  bind  together  several  qualities, 


32  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

affecting  the  senses  of  sight  and  touch,  and  which, 
when  thus  made  up  and  ticketed,  may  be  distinctly 
recollected  and  discoursed  about. 

48.  But  it  is  for  quite  a  different  reason  that  we 
have  need  of  the  aid  of  language,  and,  in  truth,  are  ab- 
solutely dependent  upon  its  aid  when  we  advance  from 
the  simpler  kinds  of  abstraction  toward  those  which 
are  more  remote.     As  to  some  of  these,  as  we  shall 
see,  it  would  not  be  possible,  even  for  a  practiced  mind, 
to  keep  its  hold  of  them,  unless  by  the  help  of  a  word 
which  has  come  to  attach  itself  to  the  notion  we  are 
laboring  to  render  distinct  and  permanent.     Let  us  see 
in  what  way  we  arrive  at  notions  of  this  more  precari- 
ous or  evanescent  kind. 

49.  We  go  back,  then,  to  the  easiest  sort  of  abstrac- 
tions— those,  namely,  which  result  from  the  separation 
of  one  quality  in  any  object  from  the  other  qualities  by 
which  it  makes  itself  known  to  us  through  the  senses 
of  sight,  touch,  taste,  smell,  and  hearing,  or  through 
any  two  or  more  of  these  senses  combined. 

50.  A  sphere  is  before  me  which  I  touch,  and  find 
it  to  be  solid  and  hard :  its  color  is  a  gray  blue — the 
color  of  iron.     When  struck,  it  gives  a  sharp  metallic 
sound.     If  I  apply  the  tongue  to  it,  it  affects  the  taste 
in  a  peculiar  manner.     Let  me  retain  the  idea  of  the 
solid  sphere,  but  suppose  it  to  show  a  bright  vermil- 
ion ;  and  instead  of  the  hardness  of  iron,  I  impute  to  it 
the  hardness  of  lead ;    and  instead  of  its  deep  sharp 
sound  when  struck,  it  gives  the  sound  of  a  wooden 
ball ;  and  instead  of  a  chalybeate  taste,  it  has  the  taste 
of  sugar. 

51.  All  these  substitutions  of  sensible  qualities,  one 


METAPHYSICS:  ULTIMATE  ABSTRACTIONS.       33 

for  another  of  the  same  order,  and  of  such  a  kind  as 
might  be  true  in  fact,  are  easily  made ;  and  it  is  also 
easy,  in  imagination,  to  make  mental  substitutions  of 
the  most  incongruous  kinds.  Thus,  although  I  have 
never  seen  a  green  horse,  yet  I  can  fancy  such  a  one. 
I  have  never  had  in  hand  a  piece  of  charcoal  that  would 
take  impressions  like  wax,  but  the  idea  is  conceivable. 
It  is  thus  that  we  can  go  on,  without  end,  in  readjust- 
ing, or  in  assorting  in  some  new  manner,  the  various 
impressions  that  are  made  upon  the  senses  by  external 
objects.  It  is  this  facility  of  readjustment  which  is 
the  germ  of  the  mechanic  arts,  as  well  as  of  those 
higher  products  of  the  human  mind  which  are  realized 
in  poetry  and  the  fine  arts. 

52.  From  this  easily-understood  process  of  substi- 
tution we  advance  a  step  toward  what  is  more  purely 
abstract  when  we  remove  from  our  idea  or  conception 
of  any  object  one  entire  set  of  its  sensible  properties. 
Thus  we  have  supposed  the  sphere  to  have  a  metallic 
taste  and  smell ;  but  we  now  think  of  it  as  devoid  of 
those  properties :  in  this  respect  it  is  as  a  globe  of 
glass.     We  have  supposed  it  to  be  sonorous ;  but  now 
it  returns  no  sound  when  struck.     We  have  seen  it  to 
be  of  a  bright  color ;  but  we  imagine  it  to  be  colorless 
— it  is  translucent,  and  it  is  so  placed  as  to  show  nei- 
ther reflection  of  light  nor  refraction ;  but  it  retains 
its  solidity  and  its  spherical  form. 

53.  We  next  suppose  the  sphere  to  pass  into  a 
spheroidal  figure — prolate  or  oblate ;   or  it  assumes 
any  other  form,  whether  regular  or  irregular.     But  if, 
beyond  all  these  subtractions  of  sensible  qualities  or 
these  substitutions,  we  go  on  to  imagine  this  same 

B2 


34  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

solid  mass  to  be  entirely  divested  of  form  or  definite 
shape — if  we  endeavor  to  think  of  it  as  having  no  con- 
tour or  outline,  our  ideas  become  confused,  and  we  are 
warned  that  the  abstractive  faculty  has  come  near  to 
its  limit  in  this  direction.  Nevertheless,  we  retain  our 
hold  of  the  vague  notion  that  remains  by  help  of  the 
phrase  solid  extension,  or  of  some  other  term  of  simi- 
lar import,  which  stands  as  the  symbol  of  something 
which  we  believe  to  be  real,  although  it  has  gone  be- 
yond the  range  of  the  conceptive  faculty. 

54.  Let  us,  then,  retrace  our  steps  so  far  as  this : 
we  call  back  the  conception  of  figure,  and  we  keep  in 
view,  as  before,  a  solid  sphere — tangible,  if  not  visible. 
I  embrace  this  mass  between  the  right  hand  and  the 
left  hand,  and  find  it  resists  my  efforts  to  join  hands : 
it  is  where  it  will  not  allow  me  to  be  at  the  same 
time.     Yet  it  may  become  soft,  or  fluid,  or  gaseous ; 
nevertheless,  and  although  now  it  has  yielded  to  my 
hands,  I  still  believe  it  to  be,  as  it  was  before,  an  oc- 
cupant of  space,  and,  as  an  elastic  gas,  it  may  fill  a 
space  many  thousand  times  larger  than  it  did  as  a 
solid  or  as  a  fluid. 

55.  But  now,  although  we  should  hesitate  to  affirm 
that  extension  is  a  property  which  is  common  to  Mind 
and  to  Matter,  nevertheless  the  Mind,  as  seated  in  the 
animal   organization,    and   when   it   exerts   its  force 
through  the  medium  of  the  nervous  threads  and  the 
muscular  system,  becomes  conscious  of  extension,  and 
of  solidity,  and  of  the  v is  inertice  of  matter.     What 
may  be  implied  in  this  consciousness  as  to  the  corre- 
spondence between  Mind  and  Matter,  this  is  not  the 
place  to  inquire,  for  such  an  inquiry  belongs  to  psy- 


METAPHYSICS:    ULTIMATE  ABSTRACTIONS.       35 

chology,  not  to  metaphysics.  All  we  have  now  to  do 
with  is  that  process  in  the  course  of  which  we  arrive 
at  these  notions  of  extension  and  solidity  as  properties 
of  matter,  and  also  of  that  force,  as  related  to  the  ex- 
ternal world,  which  is  the  inherent  property  and  the 
prime  element  of  Mind  as  distinguished  from  matter : 
matter  does  not  move  matter  otherwise  than  as  a  me- 
dium, but  Mind  does  move  it. 

56.  That  the  objects  to  which  we  impute  extension 
and  solidity  are  real,  and  that  they  are  not  mere  states 
of  the  Mind  itself,  is  a  belief  or  an  intuitive  persuasion 
which  returns  upon  us  irresistibly  if  for  a  moment  we 
have  labored  to  persuade  ourselves  to  the  contrary. 
This  belief  combines  in  itself  the  concurrent  evidence 
of  two  or  more  of  the  senses — sight,  touch,  and  perhaps 
hearing,  and  taste  or  smell. 

57.  But,  moreover,  that  those  bodies  which  excite 
in  me  this  belief  do  indeed  exist  independently  of  me, 
I  have  this  further  evidence,  that  although  the  vis  in- 
ertice  which  belongs  to  them  may,  within  certain  lim- 
its, give  way  to  Mind-force,  so  that  they  are  displaced 
by  it,  they  do  not  obey  my  mere  volitions,  or  yield 
themselves  to  my  control  in  any  manner  analogous  to 
that  in  which  the  states  of  the  Mind  itself  are  under 
control.     The  difference  is  so  clearly  marked,  and  is  so 
great  as  to  bear  down  and  to  crush  any  sort  of  sophis- 
try by  which  it  might  be  attempted  to  blend  the  two 
experiences  into  one.     Over  the  states  of  the  Mind  it- 
self, if  the  Mind  be  in  a  healthy  condition,  and  if  it  be 
disciplined  also,  it  exercises  an  almost  unlimited  con- 
trol;  within  its  own  home  the  Mind  is  absolute,  or 
nearly  so ;  but  as  to  the  outer  world,  and  the  modes 


36  THE   WORLD   OP   MIND. 

in  which  the  outer  world  affects  the  Mind  through  the 
senses,  matter  is  absolute ;  Hind  is  passive  and  sub- 
missive. 

58.  Solid  extension,  let  us  say  that  of  the  sphere, 
may  be  conceived  of  as  spreading  itself  out  further 
and  further,  until  it  fills  a  planetary  orbit,  or  until  it 
embraces  the  starry  universe ;  and  it  may  go  even  be- 
yond this  limit ;  or  the  line  which  we  have  supposed 
to  produce  itself  from  point  to  point  may  go  on  moving 
forward  in  the  same  direction  without  end  and  forever. 
At  any  one  stage  of  its  progress,  what  should  forbid 
its  advancing  one  other  stage  ;  and  then,  why  may  it 
not  do  the  like  again  ?    This  supposition  of  an  endless 
progress,  or  movement  onward,  though  we  fail  to  fol- 
low it  conceptively,  compacts  itself  into  an  abstract 
notion  for  which  we  require  a  name,  and  we  call  it 
The  Infinite,  or  Infinitude. 

59.  But  an  event  of  another  kind  may  be  imagined 
as  possible.     In  truth,  it  is  an  event  which  obtrudes 
itself  upon  our  thoughts,  and  which,  when  once  it  has 
occurred,  we  find  it  impossible  to   dismiss  entirely. 
The  solid  sphere  which  just  now  I  had  before  me,  and 
which  I  felt  and  saw,  may  not  only  disappear,  or  cease 
to  be  felt  and  seen,  but  it  may  have  ceased  to  be.    We 
may  imagine  this,  at  least :  not  that  it  has  flown  off, 
and  so  might  be  overtaken  somewhere,  but  we  may 
suppose  that  it  is  not.     What  is  there,  then,  where  it 
was,  but  where  now  it  is  not  ?     The  answer  may  be, 
Nothing ;  for  I  may  imagine  the  atmosphere  and  every 
gas  removed  from  where  it  was.     But  the  word  noth- 
ing, if  it  be  taken  in  its  simple  sense,  does  not  quite 
satisfy  the  mind.     The  annihilated  sphere  has  left  a 


METAPHYSICS:  ULTIMATE  ABSTRACTIONS.       37 

sort  of  residual  meaning  in  its  place,  or  a  shadow  of 
reality  which  asks  a  name.  This  remainder  of  mean- 
ing is  symbolized  or  represented  by  the  word  SPACE, 
and  when  we  have  accepted  it  we  feel  as  if  an  intel- 
lectual necessity  had  been  supplied. 

60.  To  the  bare  notion  which  the  word  space  en- 
ables us  to  retain  some  sort  of  hold  of,  we  render  back 
a  portion  of  the  properties  of  solid  extension,  and  on 
this  foundation  build  the  most  certain  of  the  sciences. 
Thus  we  allow  ourselves  to  think  (or  to  speak,  if  not 
to  think)  of  space  as  divisible  into  parts,  and  as  sus- 
ceptible of  measurement,  and  also  as  capable  of  end- 
less progression  outward  from  a  centre.     In  this  way 
we  come  to  speak  of  INFINITE  SPACE.     Here,  then,  is 
an  abstract  notion  from  which  I  have  removed  all  sen- 
sible properties — nay,  all  properties,  whether  sensible 
or  only  conceivable,  and  yet  I  am  not  content  to  call 
it  nothing ;  nor  can  I  rid  myself  of  it :  it  is  like  to 
nothing ;  it  clings  to  my  consciousness ;   it  is,  or  it 
has  become  to  me,  a  law  of  my  intellectual  existence. 
I  can  not  think  of  myself  or  of  any  other  existence 
otherwise  than  as  occupying  space. 

61.  Beyond  this  limit  and  in  this  direction  no  hu- 
man mind  has   hitherto  made  any  progress,  or  has 
shown  us  how  we  may  analyze  the  notion  represented 
by  the  word  space.     The  analytic  faculty  has  at  length 
fully  done  its  office,  and  the  result  is  an  ultimate  ab- 
straction. 

62.  As  often  as  any  such  process  of  thought  brings 
us  into  the  presence  of  a  notion  beyond  which  we 
make  no  advance,  we  look  about  for  a  word  that  shall 
mark  the  terminus,  or,  as  we  might  say,  that  shall 


38  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

keep  possession  of  something  which  we  have  acquired 
with  labor,  and  which  yet  we  find  it  equally  difficult 
to  retain  or  to  dismiss.  After  some  severe  mental 
process  has  driven  off,  one  by  one,  every  conceivable 
property  which  we  may  imagine  to  be  removable  from 
the  object,  we  then  consign  the  vague  residue,  or  what 
we  might  call  the  ashes  of  thought,  to  the  custody  of 
an  abstract  term,  such  as  the  one  we  have  just  now 
mentioned. 

63.  Another  of  these  ultimate  abstractions  which 
so  enters  into  our  consciousness  as  to  become  an  in- 
separable element  of  it,  is  that  of  DURATION,  or,  as 
measured  into  equal  parts,  TIME.     In  a  manner  anal- 
ogous to  that  which  gives  us  the  idea  of  extension — 
length  and  breadth — we  derive  from  our  consciousness 
of  continuous  being  the  notion  of  duration,  or  time. 
From  this  notion  we  do  not  find  it  possible  to  set  our- 
selves free.     We  can  not  think  of  existence  at  all  as  a 
single  point  that  has  no  continuance. 

64.  Although  duration  must  be  made  up  of  a  suc- 
cession of  instants,  even  as  a  line  is  constituted  of 
points,  no  one  of  which  has  any  magnitude,  yet  our 
consciousness  always  embraces  more  of  it  than  any 
such  single  instant,  and  it  is  only  by  an  effort  that 
we  force  ourselves  to  distinguish  the  instant  actually 
present  from  the  instants  that  are  just  past.     Time  is 
to  us  a  flux,  of  which  we  take  possession  of  a  greater 
or  of  a  less  breadth ;  it  is  as  if  the  now  of  our  exist- 
ence stretched  itself  over  an  appreciable  area.     The 
estimate  we  form  of  the  length  of  any  marked  period 
of  time  depends  partly  upon  the  state  of  the  mind  it- 
self, but  mainly  upon  a  habit  which  spontaneously 


METAPHYSICS:    ULTIMATE  ABSTRACTIONS.       39 

arises  from  the  references  we  make  to  the  mechanical 
and  the  astronomical  measurements  of  time.  If  it 
were  not  for  the  clock,  and  for  the  alternations  of  day 
and  night,  our  estimates  of  the  passage  of  time  would 
be  liable  to  very  great  variations.  But  these  facts  be- 
long rather  to  the  physiology  of  the  Mind  than  to  our 
immediate  subject. 

65.  An  absolute  separation  of  the  physical  from  the 
metaphysical  is  not  easily  effected  or  adhered  to  on 
this  ground,  for  many  feelings  and  habits  which  will 
hereafter  claim  to  be  considered  mix  themselves  with 
the  merely  abstract  notion  of  which  we  are  in  quest. 
For  the  purpose,  therefore,  of  keeping  clear  of  these 
mixed  conceptions  as  far  as  possible,  we  return  to  the 
illustration  above  adduced — a  solid  sphere,  which  we 
may  imagine  to  be  before  us,  is  suspended  in  space. 
It  is  unchanged ;  it  is  unchangeable  as  to  its  proper- 
ties and  conditions ;  but  while  we  have  been  looking 
at  or  thinking  of  it,  we  have  ourselves  passed  through 
a  history — we  have  existed  through  a  line  or  flow  of 
existences,  of  which,  singly,  some  account  might  be 
rendered.     This  period  is  not  one  existence,  but  it  is 
a  series,  and  it  must  be  so,  as  well  to  this  sphere  as  to 
ourselves :  the  one,  as  well  as  the  other,  combines  two 
elements — the  instant  now  present,  and  the  existences 
past,  that  have  ceased  to  be  instant.     In  our  minds 
the  two  elements  melt  into  each  other,  and  form  an 
idea  or  conception  of  continuance  in  being,  and  we  are 
intellectually  compelled  to  attribute  duration  to  the 
unconscious  sphere  not  less  than  to  ourselves. 

66.  This  same  conception   attaches   itself,  in  our 
minds,  to  all  other  existences,  even  to  those  to  which 


40  THE   WORLD  OF  MIND. 

we  impute  neither  change  nor  consciousness.  As  the 
fluxion  of  a  point  gives  us  the  notion  of  linear  exten- 
sion, so  the  fluxion  of  an  instant  gives  us  the  notion 
of  duration ;  and  the  persistence  which  belongs  to 
thought  enables  us  to  retain  our  hold  of  large  portions 
of  this  ever-flowing  existence. 

67.  We  fail  to  exclude  from  our  idea  of  this  solid 
sphere — although  it  has  undergone  no  change  what- 
ever— the  idea  of  a  history,  albeit  it  is  a  history  with- 
out events :  it  has  continued  to  be,  and  it  has  run  par- 
allel with  our  own  being  through  time.     We  arrive, 
therefore,  at  the  abstract  notion  of  duration,  taken 
apart  from  all  idea  of  change  or  evolution,  or  of  pas- 
sage from  one  condition  to  another. 

68.  As  extension  may  run  out  toward  the  infinite, 
so  existence,  as  related  to  time,  may  run  out  toward 
the  infinite ;  and  then  we  have  before  us  the  incon- 
ceivable notion  of  duration,  without  beginning  and 
without  end. 

69.  Our  consciousness  of  extension  as  divisible  into 
parts,  and  our  consciousness  of  a  flux  of  being  consti- 
tuting a  history,  give  us  aid  in  keeping  possession  of 
the  abstract  notions  of  space  and  time ;  but  we  may 
at  least  conceive  of  the  extinction  of  all  beings,  mate- 
rial and  intellectual.     There  would  nevertheless  re- 
main— what  we  can  not  imagine  otherwise  than  that 
they  should  remain — namely,  space  without  bounds, 
and  duration  without  bounds.     The  sphere,  in  ceasing 
to  exist,  does  not  release  us  from  the  notion  of  space, 
nor,  in  ceasing  to  exist,  does  it  release  us  from  the  no- 
tion of  duration  ;  but  when  the  human  mind  has  come 
to  touch  this  border,  it  must  be  content  to  retrace  its 


METAPHYSICS:    ULTIMATE   ABSTRACTIONS.         41 

steps  toward  the  concrete :  whatever  there  may  be  out- 
stretched beyond  this  limit,  it  is  what  can  never  be- 
come an  intelligible  object  of  inquiry.  The  faculty  of 
abstraction,  as  developed  in  the  human  mind,  has  ex- 
hausted itself  in  this  direction. 

70.  And  yet  as  far  as  this  we  miwt  go  by  a  sort 
of  necessity.     The  fact  that  the  language  of  every  cul- 
tured people  possesses  terms  representative  of  these 
ultimate  abstractions,  is  proof  conclusive  that  the  hu- 
man mind  is  so  constituted  as  that  it  must  go  on  to 
this  extent,  and  so  conceive  of  the  infinite  as  apart 
from  actual  existence  —  a  succession  which  has  no 
changes ;  a  track  which  leaves  no  trace ;  a  line  which 
has  no  breadth  and  no  angles,  which  intersects  noth- 
ing, which  is  parallel  to  nothing,  which  arises  nowhere, 
and  which  ends  nowhere  and  never. 

71.  Why  it  is  that  I  can  not  disengage  my  thoughts 
from  these  two  spectres — infinite  space  and  infinite 
duration,  void  space  and  unchanging  duration ;  why 
I  can  not  release  myself  from  ideas  which  at  once  re- 
fuse to  depart,  and  yet  mock  my  endeavors  to  grasp 
them,  is  a  question  the  answer  to  which,  so  far  as  it 
admits  of  an  answer,  must  be  sought  for  in  looking  to 
the  structure  of  the  human  mind,  considered  physically, 
or  as  to  the  elements  and  laws  of  its  constitution.     At 
this  stage  it  is  enough  to  know  that  we  have  touched 
the  limit  of  those  abstractions  which  come  within  the 
range  of  our  faculties. 

72.  There  is,  however,  yet  an  intellectual  necessity 
to  be  supplied ;  a  word  or  two  is  still  needed,  to  which 
we  may  hand  over  a  residue  of  meaning,  after  all  dis- 
tinct meaning  has  been  discharged  from  our  mode  of 


42  THE  WORLD   OF   MIND. 

conceiving  of  things  in  the  concrete.  We  have  spoken 
of  the  material  world  and  of  the  immaterial  as  existing 
or  as  ceasing  to  exist.  This  or  that  object  is  or  it  is 
not  in  being.  While  it  exists,  and  after  we  have  re- 
moved from  our  idea  of  it,  one  by  one,  all  the  properties 
by  which  it  has  become  cognizable  to  the  senses,  we 
still  suppose  its  continuance  in  space  and  time.  The 
words  being  and  existence  offer  themselves  as  represent- 
atives of  this  denuded  conception,  and  we  seem  to 
strengthen  their  import  a  little  by  means  of  the  word 
substance,  which,  as  its  etymology  indicates,  represents 
the  unknown  support  of  all  qualities  and  properties. 
We  have  need  of  the  belief  that  the  sensible  properties 
of  things  are  set  upon  something  beyond  or  something 
deeper  than  themselves,  and  which  is  absolutely  occult. 

73.  This  same  necessity  attaches  to  our  conscious- 
ness of  our  own  existence.     In  place  of  the  sensations 
which  just  now  connect  me  with  the  objects  of  the  ex- 
ternal world,  I  may  imagine  other  objects,  other  places, 
and  other  things,  or  I  may  cease  to  attend  to  these 
sensations,  and,  withdrawing  myself  to  the  ideal  world, 
may  imagine  other  scenes,  and  from  these  may  derive 
the  means  of  states  of  feeling  of  any  sort. 

74.  Throughout  the  course  of  any  such  substitu- 
tions or  shiftings  of  scenes,  whether  voluntary  or  oth- 
erwise, I  retain  a  persuasion  of  my  own  individual 
continuous  existence  apart  from  and  independent  of 
any  changes  arising  either  from  within  or  from  with- 
out.    I  AM,  whether  I  think  and  feel  in  this  manner 
or  in  any  other,  or  not  at  all. 

75.  The  idea  of  existence  has  so  much  tenacity  that 
it  holds  itself  entire,  even  if,  as  we  now  suppose,  every 


METAPHYSICS:  ULTIMATE  ABSTRACTIONS.       43 

sensation  and  feeling  lias  subsided  or  vanished.  I  be- 
lieve that  I  might  pass  through  a  moment,  an  hour,  or 
any  other  period,  in  utter  unconsciousness,  and  yet 
should  continue  to  be  /  and  in  a  moment  after  sucli  a 
period,  might  wake  up  to  the  varied  experiences  of 
common  life. 

76.  The  question  is  not  now  whether  the  human 
mind  does  ever,  in  fact,  collapse  into  any  such  condi- 
tion of  unconsciousness,  or  whether  it  might  remain 
in  such  a  state  a  day,  or  a  century,  or  for  ages.     Ques- 
tions of  this  kind  are  physical,  not  metaphysical.     But, 
whether  the  fact  be  so  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  the  ab- 
stractivt  larulty  goes  on  until  we  look  for  a  word  which 
may  save  us  from  a  feeling  as  if  the  powers  of  thought 
were  stagnating.     We  speak,  then,  of  being,  or  of  ex- 
istence, and  of  substance,  material  or  immaterial.    These 
words  represent  nothing  that  can  be  analyzed,  for  the 
notions  they  convey  (if  any)  have  no  constituents ;  we 
have    already  discharged  from  them    all   constituent 
ideas,  and  therefore  they  can  yield  no  results  as  ob- 
jects of  speculation. 

77.  It  is  not  here  either  affirmed  or  denied  that  there 
is  a  depth  in  the  nature  of  things  which  these  abstract 
t«Tins  conceal  from  our  view.      We  say  only  this,  that 
they  mark  the  boundary  of  abstraction,  so  far  as  the 
human  mind  is  concerned.     Nevertheless,  there  will 
always  be  a  tendency  to  push  forward  a  little  farther. 
Minds  that  are  more  fertile  than  analytic,  more  viva- 
cious than  exact,  and  that  are  ambitious  too,  and  smit- 
ten with  the  charms  of  the  inscrutable,  will  be  ever 
and  again  working  at  these  insolubles ;  and  which, 
when  they  have  packed  customary  abstract  phrases  in 


44  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

some  new  fashion,  will  exult  in  the  persuasion  that 
they  have  at  length  mastered  the  mysteries  of  exist- 
ence, and  have  come  up  from  the  abyss  laden  with  pre- 
cious ore. 


IV. 
METAPHYSICS: 

MIXED    ABSTRACTIONS. 

78.  IT  is  important  to  keep  in  view  a  distinction, 
often  lost  sight  of,  between  what  may  be  unknown  in 
fact  to  ourselves  individually,  and  because  we  have  had 
no  means  at  present  of  gaining  access  to  the  knowledge 
of  it,  and  what  is  unknown  because  it  transcends  the 
range  and  limits  of  the  human  mind.     For  example, 
the  contents  of  a  sealed  letter  which  I  hold  in  my 
hand,  or  of  a  casket  of  which  I  have  not  the  key,  are 
unknown,  and  so  is  the  condition  of  the  planets  as  in- 
habited or  not :  these  are  things  which  perhaps  I  shall 
never  be  informed  of,  but  I  might  know  them  if  I  had 
access  to  the  facts.     But  what  may  be  the  inner  con- 
stitution of  the  material  and  immaterial  worlds  I  do 
not  know,  and  I  may  well  suppose  that  this  mystery 
will  ever  remain  beyond  the  reach  of  human  science. 
It  is  certain,  also,  that  much  which,  on  grounds  of  the 
surest  reasoning,  we  hold  to  be  true  in  theology,  can 
be  apprehended  no  otherwise  than  indistinctly  by  the 
human  mind  ;  thus  the  perfections  of  the  Infinite  Be- 
ing are  assumed  as  certain  in  our  meditations,  although 
we  soon  feel  that  here  the  powers  of  reason  are  baffled. 

79.  The  class  of  abstractions  of  which  now  we  have 


METAPHYSICS:  MIXED  ABSTRACTIONS.          45 

to  speak  are  called  Mixed  Abstractions,  for  this  rea- 
son, that  there  is  blended  in  them  something  of  what 
the  mind  has  a  perfect  control  over,  and  therefore 
knowledge  of  (although  individually  we  may  not  have 
come  to  know  it),  along  with  something  in  nature 
which  is  indeed  inaccessible  by  any  method  which 
human  science  has  at  its  command.  From  this  inter- 
mingling of  the  known  and  the  unknowable  much  con- 
fusion has  arisen,  and  some  controversies  also,  which 
appear  to  be  inexhaustible,  hence  take  their  rise.  There 
is  a  set  of  abstract  terms  the  mere  hearing  of  which 
excites  the  idea  of  interminable  and  fruitless  debate : 
such  are  the  words  causation,  liberty,  necessity,  free 
will,  and  some  others,  which  usually  accompany  them. 

80.  In  entering  upon  this  much-debated  ground, 
we  shall  secure  for  ourselves  some  ease  of  mind  by 
the  simple  means  of  keeping  an  eye  upon  the  distinc- 
tion above  referred  to.     The  popular  notion  is,  that 
metaphysical  principles  are  abstruse  and  incomprehen- 
sible, while  whatever  relates  to  the  actual  nature  of 
those  things  with  which  we  are  familiar  must  be  easi- 
ly comprehensible.     A  little  attention  will  convince  us 
that  the  very  contrary  of  this  is  more  near  the  truth. 

81.  Pure  abstractions,  such  as  those  which  we  have 
now  lately  had  to  do  with,  may  not  hitherto  have  en- 
gaged our  attention,  and  therefore  it  may  happen  that, 
when  we  hear  the  terms  in  which  they  are  conveyed, 
we  may  fail  to  connect  with  them  any  clear  ideas.     In 
the  same  way  we  might  open  a  treatise  upon  the  Conic 
Sections,  and  understand  nothing  more  of  it  than  we 
should  in  looking  into  a  Chinese  tract ;  yet  it  is  cer- 
tain that,  if  we  gave  time  and  attention  sufficient  to 


46  THE    WORLD   OF   MIND. 

this  mathematical  treatise,  we  should  come,  in  the  full- 
est manner,  to  a  knowledge  of  its  meaning.  A  math- 
ematical theorem  is  the  product  of  the  human  mind- 
nothing  more,  and  it  must  therefore  be  comprehensible 
by  any  human  mind  possessing  ordinary  intelligence. 
The  same  also  may  be  affirmed  of  whatever  is  purely 
metaphysical,  for  this  also  is  a  product  of  thought— 
simply  so,  and  therefore  it  can  contain  nothing  that  is 
incomprehensible  by  minds  that  are  sufficiently  disci- 
plined in  subjects  of  this  class.  The  human  mind  may 
imagine  mysteries  among  its  own  products,  but  it  can 
not  make  them. 

82.  And  thus  it  is  that  the  terms  we  have  now  to 
do  with,  so  far  as  they  are  purely  metaphysical  or  ab- 
stract, are  wholly  free  from  intrinsic  difficulty;  but 
then,  as  some  of  them — in  truth,  the  leading  terms  in 
the  set — touch  upon  the  structure  and  the  working  of 
MIND  as  it  is  distinguished  from  the  animal  organiza- 
tion, they  therefore  involve  more  than  is  known,  or  than 
will  ever  (it  is  probable)  be  opened  up  by  scientific  in- 
vestigation.    What  we  have  now  to  do  is  nothing 
more  than  this — to  disengage  the  metaphysical  from 
the  physical  on  this  ground.     We  are  not  about  to 
expound  the  enigmas  of  the  Universe,  but  only  to  ad- 
just and  to  put  in  order  our  own  thoughts,  and  to 
place  our  terms  in  their  true  relative  position  each  to- 
ward the  others. 

83.  Correlative  terms  are  such  as  draw  their  mean- 
ing entirely  from  their  reciprocity,  or  their  bearing 
one  upon  the  others.     Correlative  terms  present  them- 
selves, therefore,  in  pairs  or  in  sets.     Such  are  the 
words  whole  and  part,  a  half,  a  third  part ;  and  such 


METAPHYSICS:    MIXED   ABSTRACTIONS.  47 

arc  those  many  words  and  phrases  which  express  our 
social  relationships.  The  abstract  words  and  phrases 
'which  are  now  in  view  are  all  of  them  correlatives  : 
singly  taken,  they  represent  nothing ;  when  packed 
together,  they  symbolize  some  fact  or  some  congeries 
of  facts,  which  we  are  to  look  for  as  belonging  to  the 
physical  structure  of  the  world  of  mind. 

84.  This  set  of  terms  includes  the  words  power, 
causation  (or  cause  and  effect),  liberty,  necessity,  inva- 
riable sequence,  freedom  of  the  will,  and  others  of 
nearly  the  same  import.     If  we  would  do  away  with 
some  two  or  tliree  of  these  words,  or  would  declare 
that  no  distinguishable  meaning  attaches  to  them,  we 
ought,  in  consequence,  to  reject  the  others  also,  or 
those  which  are  their  correlatives :  if,  for  instance,  we 
say  that  the  words  power  and  cause  have  no  proper 
meaning  in  a  scientific  sense,  then  the  balancing  word, 
necessity,  has  also  lost  its  value.     And  yet  when,  in 
this  way,  we  have  neutralized  or  have  abrogated  the 
two  phrases,  in  the  next  moment  we  become  conscious 
of  our  need  of  them.     We  have  thrown  away  a  part 
of  our  intellectual  apparatus — our  tools — and  we  must, 
by  any  means,  recover  the  use  of  them.    In  such  cases, 
what  may  be  called  the  instincts  of  reason  prevail  over 
the  specious  sophistries  ot  an  hour,  and  we  return  with 
comfort  to  modes  of  thinking  and  speaking  which  suit 
us  well,  just  because  they  are  in  harmony  with  the 
Mind  itself,  and  because  they  have  sprung  out  of  itself 
spontaneously. 

85.  Let  it  now  be  supposed  that  we   have  been 
acquainting  ourselves  with  the  "mechanism  of  the 
heavens" — that  is  to  say,  the  laws  of  the  planetary 


48  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

motions  as  they  are  taught  by  the  modern  astronomy 
— and  that  we  have  traced  to  their  source,  in  the  law 
of  gravitation,  all  those  perturbations  which,  at  a  first 
view,  might  seem  to  be  lawless  or  fortuitous.  In  con- 
templating this  vast  and  perfect  scheme  of  balanced 
forces,  amid  the  complications  of  which  no  real  irreg- 
ularity ever  occurs — and  while  we  are  thinking  of  such 
a  system,  and  are  thinking  of  nothing  beyond  or  be- 
side it — we  should  not  feel  the  need  of  any  term  where- 
by to  affirm  the  unfailing  constancy  of  the  system,  in 
contradiction  to  some  imagined  inconstancy  or  irreg- 
ularity. There  would  be  no  room  for  the  word  neces- 
sity as  applicable  to  these  celestial  motions,  for  we 
know  well  that  there  neither  is  nor  can  be  any  play 
of  chance  or  fortuity  among  them. 

86.  But  instead  of  the  heavens,  let  me  suppose  that 
I  am  looking  down  into  an  inclosed  garden  at  the  time 
of  the  fall  of  the  leaf:  a  huffing  wind,  thrown  into 
gusty  eddies  by  the  adjoining  buildings  and  the  ave- 
nues of  the  place,  hurls  the  falling  leaves,  as  they  are 
torn  from  their  sprays,  hither  and  thither  in  endless 
varieties  of  course.  The  popular  apprehension  of  sucli 
a  scene  of  confusjon  would  be  that  Chance,  and  not 
Law,  is  mistress  in  this  inclosure.  But  science  will 
revise  any  such  supposition,  and  will  show  me  that 
the  flitting  track  of  each  leaf,  from  the  point  of  its  de- 
tachment to  the  spot  where  at  length  it  reaches  its 
rest,  is  as  truly  and  as  constantly  determined  by  law 
as  are  the  movements  of  planets  and  satellites  in  their 
orbits.  The  difference  is  this :  that  in  the  one  case 
the  influences  are  such  as  we  can  ascertain  and  pre- 
dict ;  in  the  other  case  they  are  too  many,  and  they 


METAPHYSICS:  MIXED  ABSTRACTIONS.  '      49 

are  too  intricately  intermingled  to  become  calculable ; 
and  we  should  certainly  fail  in  the  attempt  to  predict 
them,  even  in  a  single  instance.  Nevertheless,  we  can 
not  doubt  that  the  course  of  each  leaf  might  be  infal- 
libly foreseen  by  an  intelligence  of  a  higher  order  than 
the  human.  An  earth-made  almanac  foreshows,  to 
an  instant  of  any  time  future,  what  will  then  be  the 
configuration  of  the  planetary  system,  but  a  heaven- 
made  almanac  might  place  before  us  the  future  wintry 
bed  of  every  leaf  which  is  bursting  the  bud  in  May. 

87.  Let  us  now  shift  the  scene.     Instead  of  the 
unfailing  movements  of  planets  and  satellites,  and  in- 
stead of  the  apparently  fortuitous  whirling  of  autumnal 
leaves — which  we  find  is  not  indeed  fortuitous,  but  is 
always  in  accordance  with  fixed  laws — instead  of  these 
phenomena,  we  watch  the  fitful  movements  of  a  swarm 
of  gnats  disporting  themselves  in  the  summer's  sun 
over  a  tranquil  pond.     We  have  here  in  view,  unques- 
tionably, a  new  element  of  motion ;  for  the  leaf,  hurried 
before  the  blast,  obeys  impulses  that  affect  it  from 
without :  it  gives  no  indication  of  a  force  operating 
from  icithin  itself. 

88.  But  the  insect,  although  yielding  itself  more  or 
less  to  the  breeze,  yet,  in  the  main,  describes  a  series 
of  curves  which  obey  a  law  derived  from  another  source, 
namely,  the  volitions  of  the  animal  mind.     These  vo- 
litions, variable  as  they  are,  and  taking  their  rise  from 
the  centre  of  this  microscopic  organization,  defy  our 
endeavors  to  predict  them  from  one  moment  to  the 
next.     In  watching  these  incalculable  gyrations,  we 
seem  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  distinction  between  irre- 
sistible and  invariable  law,  and  a  species  of  movement 

c 


50  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

which  declares  itself  to  be  exempt  from  any  such  des- 
potism :  it  is  free.  There  comes  before  us,  then,  in 
looking  at  the  animated  world,  the  meaning  of  the  cor- 
relative terms  liberty  and  necessity,  or  any  other  terms 
which  may  be  equivalent  to  these. 

89.  It  is  not  until  we  give  attention  to  this  new 
class  of  phenomena  that  we  find  our  need  of  abstract 
terms  such  as  these.     We  should  not  think  of  apply- 
ing to  the  celestial  motions  words  expressive  of  their 
unalterable  constancy  if  we  had  not  already  contem- 
plated movements  which  seem,  at  least,  to  be  free,  to 
be  inconstant,  to  be  fortuitous. 

90.  But  now,  just  as,  in  the  instance  of  the  flitting 
autumnal  leaves,  we  found  that  we  must  reject  our  first 
supposition,  that  these  frail  bodies  are  driven  hither 
and  thither  lawlessly,  or  as  if  by  mere  chance,  must 
we  not,  in  like  manner,  abandon  the  supposition  which, 
at  the  moment,  suggests  itself  in  observing  the  sportive 
dance  of  the  insect  swarm  ?     It  may  well  be  asked,  Is 
there  any  solid  ground  for  the  distinction  we  have  sup 
posed  to  exist  between  the  one  class  of  phenomena  and 
the  other  ?     Are  not  both  alike  ruled  by  law  ?     Is  the 
one  kind  of  motion,  in  truth,  any  more  free  than  the 
other  ? 

91.  We  have  already  allowed  this  distinction  to  be 
real,  so  far  as  this,  that  the  leaf  is  driven  about  by 
forces  acting  upon  it  from  without,  while  the  insect  is 
carried  to  and  fro  by  forces  arising  from  within.     Yet, 
is  not  this  inner  impulse  itself  as  much  necessitated  as 
are  the  outer  forces  of  the  wind  and  of  gravitation  ? 
Is,  then,  the  distinction  to  be  accounted  real  in  a 
strictly  philosophic  sense  ? 


METAPHYSICS:    MIXED  ABSTRACTIONS.  51 

92.  In  endeavoring  to  meet  this  question  by  look- 
ing more  carefully  into  the  structure  and  functions  of 
animal  organization,  our  first  impression  is  likely  to 
be  that  the  distinction  assumed  is  unreal,  and  the  re- 
sult of  such  an  inquiry  will  be  similar  to  that  which 
led  us  to  recognize  the  presence  of  law  in  the  fitful 
course  of  the  detached  leaf  not  less  than  in  the  revolu- 
tions of  the  planets.     We  may  not  actually  or  certainly 
comprehend  the  purport  and  intention  of  the  hither  and 
thither  movements  of  the  insect,  but  nevertheless  we 
believe  that  he  knows  what  he  is  about.     At  the  im- 
pulse of  instincts  which  he  obeys  unconsciously  and 
invariably,  and  also  under  the  guidance  of  that  knowl- 
edge of  the  outer  world  which  he  receives  by  the  organs 
of  sight,  hearing,  smell,  and  perhaps  other  senses  with 
which  man  is  not  furnished,  the  animal  goes,  flies, 
crawls,  runs,  floats,  and  darts  like  ligthning,  to  the 
right  or  left,  in  obedience  to  those  combined  impulses 
of  instinct  and  of  sensation :  these  are  laws  as  certain 
as  gravitation,  though  they  are  far  more  various  and 
complicated. 

93.  At  this  point,  then,  we  might  stop,  and  we  may 
think  our  generalization  is  sufficient  if  it  be  not  alto- 
gether complete.     There  will,  however,  remain  a  feel- 
ing of  dissatisfaction  in  assenting  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  distinction  between  the  one  order  of  physical 
agencies  and  the  other  is  illusory.     Here,  again,  the 
intuitions  of  reason  make  a  protest  against  this  sort 
of  wholesale  philosophy,  and  if  we  yield  to  it,  it  is  still 
with  a  reserved  dissent. 

94.  The  grounds  of  such  an  intellectual  revulsion 
are  of  this  kind :  animal  instincts  manifestly  have  in 


52  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

view  the  animal  well-being,  the  conservation  of  life ; 
and  they  combine  themselves  every  moment  with  im- 
pressions received  through  the  organs  of  sense ;  and, 
as  thus  combined,  they  bring  about  a  certain  result, 
which  is  seen  in  the  movements  of  the  animal.  In- 
stincts from  within  and  impressions  from  without  are 
centripetal  forces :  they  act  in  a  radial  direction,  and 
meet  in  that  organ — that  centre  of  the  nervous  system 
whence  volitions  take  their  rise,  and  where  conscious- 
ness is,  or  seems  to  be,  seated. 

95.  Instincts  and  sensations  are  subservient  to  a 
definite  purpose,  or  they  are  means  which  come  to  their 
end  in  some  higher  or  more  comprehensive  intention. 
The  action  or  movement  of  the  animal  which  ensues 
reflects,  not  the  instinct  merely  nor  the  sensation  mere- 
ly, but  this  final  intention,  in  which  both  arc  combined. 
When,  therefore,  we  have  included  in  our  generaliza- 
tion all  the  facts  that  belong  to  these  two  influences, 
instincts  and  sensations,  there  still  remains  something 
further  or  deeper  to  seek  for — there  remains  this  MIND- 
FORCE,  of  which  the  single  volitions  are  the  expression. 

96.  Any  further  question  concerning  this   cent  nil 
power,  which  is  the  ultimate  fact  in  the  animal  struc- 
ture, must  be  carried  forward  on  the  ground  of  a  pure- 
ly physical  inquiry,  and  it  will  come  to  be  considered 
further  on  in  our  course.     What  we  have  now  to  do 
is  to  trace  to  their  origin  our  own  abstract  notions,  and 
to  bring  the  terms  which  convey  these  notions  into 
their  true  relative  position.     Whether  it  be  so  or  not, 
when  we  go  down  into  the  depths  of  animal  life,  that 
the  distinction  between  liberty  and  necessity  is  real, 
and  whether  or  not  all  physical  agencies  are,  in  the 


METAPHYSICS:  MIXED  ABSTRACTIONS.         53 

same  sense,  the  product  of  irresistible  forces — the  re- 
sults of  laws  that  are  uniform  and  invariable,  yet  it  is 
certain  that  the  human  mind,  unless  in  any  instance 
its  intuitions  are  sophisticated,  challenges  the  distinc- 
tion as  real.  Among  those  convictions  which  no  soph- 
istry can  weaken  longer  than  for  an  hour,  this,  of  the 
absoluteness  of  that  power  of  which  our  volitions  are 
the  result,  is  one  of  the  most  firm.  The  most  subtile 
processes  of  logic  still  leave  us  in  possession  of  the  in- 
tuitive belief  that  MIND  is  free,  in  some  sense,  in  which 
nothing  else  in  the  world  is  free ;  and  that,  whatever 
be  the  law  of  its  action,  it  is  a  law  differing  essential- 
ly from  physical  law. 

97.  We  go  back,  then,  at  present,  to  the  set  of  cor- 
relative phrases  which  we  have  named  above.     All  we 
have  to  do  is  to  assign  them  to  their  positions  respect- 
ively one  toward  the  others.     Which  of  this  set  of 
terms  is  entitled  to  the  foremost  place?     The  answer 
must  be,  that  one  term  from  which  the  others  mani- 
festly draw  their  value. 

98.  The  English  language  offers  to  our  use  no  word, 
appropriated  to  science,  which  should  take  this  first 
place.     We  must  use  the  word  POWER,  because  we 
have  not  a  better  to  indicate  that  primary  element  of 
our  consciousness  around  which  its  other  constituents 
take  subordinate  places.     The  word  causation  can 
have  no  meaning  until  we  have  allowed  its  full  mean- 
ing to  the  word  POWER,  as  the  property  peculiar  to 
mind,  and  its  true  characteristic.     We  then  bisect  the 
abstract  term  causation,  and  so  speak  of  cause  and  ef- 
fect.    The  consciousness  of  power  involves,  or  it  in- 
cludes, the  notion  of  freedom  or  liberty  as  the  condi- 


54  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

tion  of  power.  Power  that  is  overpowered  is  not  pow- 
er. Power  that  is  controlled  in  part  is  an  admissible 
notion,  and  therefore  it  is  that  the  word  freedom,  as 
applied  to  the  human  mind,  is  a  term  that  has  a  vari- 
able value.  Human  minds  are  more  or  less  free  at 
different  times  or  in  different  conditions.  One  mind 
has  incomparably  more  freedom  than  some  other  minds ; 
some  appear  to  have  none. 

99.  This  primary   element  of  our  consciousness, 
which  we  are  intending  when  we  employ  the  word 
power,  is  entitled  to  the  foremost  place  in  this  set  of 
abstract  notions ;  first,  because  the  other  terms  of  the 
set  depend  entirely  upon  this  for  their  significance ; 
and,  secondly,  because  among  them  this  is  the  one 
that  draws  its  meaning  directly  from  our  conscious- 
ness, and  which  is  able  to  stand  by  itself  without  sup- 
port. 

100.  When  we  shall  come  to  inquire  hereafter  con- 
cerning the  structure  of  Mind  as  a  subject  of  physical 
science,  we  may  see  reason  to  assent  to  this  doctrine, 
namely,  that  MIND  is  the  only  power  or  force  in  the 
universe  of  which  we  have  or  can  have  any  cognizance. 
In  that  case  we  shall  be  ready  to  grant  that,  in  the 
scheme  of  the  material  world,  as  to  all  those  "con- 
stant sequences,"  as  they  are  called,  and  those  invari- 
able linkings  of  event  to  event  with  which  physical 
science  is  concerned,  the  term  causation  can  be  applied 
to  them  only  in  a  figurative  sense  or  by  a  metonymy. 
This  tendency  to  impute  power  or  inherent  force  to 
the  immediate  antecedent  of  any  event,  and  so  to  speak 
of  physical  causes  and  effects,  is,  in  fact,  a  clear  indi- 
cation of  the  prerogative  of  the  Mind  itself,  conscious 


METAPHYSICS  :    MIXED   ABSTRACTIONS.  55 

as  it  is  of  being  the  initiative  power  both  within  itself 
and  as  it  is  related  to  the  outer  world. 

101.  Uncultured  nations,  and,  indeed,  the  ignorant 
and  imaginative  every  where,  are  prompt  to  impute 
Mind,  and  feeling,  and  purpose,  and  power  to  all  things 
material — animate  and  inanimate,  and  to  suppose  that 
a  hidden  soul  is  expressing  itself  in  every  event,  es- 
pecially in  such  as  excite  wonder  or  terror.     Philoso- 
phy comes  in  to  check,  or  to  dispel  entirely,  these  im- 
aginary imputations,  and  to  deprive  the  term  causa- 
tion of  its  meaning  otherwise  than  as  significant  of  the 
fixed  sequency  of  events.     Physical  science  is  doing 
this  more  and  more,  and  it  must  do  so  until  this  proc- 
ess of  generalization  comes  at  length  to  touch  or  to 
call  in  question  the  prerogatives  of  the  world  of  Mind. 
When  this  happens,  a  strong  reaction  takes  place,  and 
then  a  challenge  is  made  on  behalf  of  those  intuitive 
convictions  which  are  anterior  to  formal  reasoning,  and 
which,  therefore,  have  a  hold  of  the  intellect  that  is 
too  strong  to  be  much  affected  by  logic,  however  spe- 
cious it  may  be. 

102.  In  recent  times  strenuous  endeavors  have  been 
made  to  bring  into  doubt  those  instinctive  convictions 
which  are  part  of  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind, 
and  which  are  the  foundation  of  all  knowledge,  ordi- 
nary or  scientific. 

103.  On  the  one  hand,  to  reject  these  primary  con- 
victions because  they  can  not  be  made  good  by  rea- 
soning, or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  attempt  to  establish 
them  as  theorems  that  are  capable  of  demonstration,  is 
to  misapprehend  the  constitution  of  the  mind.     What 
can  be  done  by  means  of  that  sort  of  analysis  and  rea- 


56  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

soning  which  is  called  metaphysical,  is  simply  this — 
to  exhibit  the  relative  position  of  those  abstract  notions 
which  are  the  product  of  thought.  The  absolute  value 
of  the  terms  appropriated  to  those  notions  is  not  to  be 
found,  for  elements  are  not  to  be  analyzed. 

104.  It  does  not  come,  therefore,  within  the  prov- 
ince of  metaphysics  to  add  any  thing,  even  a  particle, 
to  our  knowledge  of  the  world  of  Mind.  It  lias  done 
its  utmost  when  it  has  set  its  own  house  in  order.  If 
any  genuine  advances  are  possible  on  this  field,  they 
must  be  looked  for  on  the  path  of  physical  inquiry. 


V. 
METAPHYSICS: 

CONCRETIVE   ABSTRACTIONS. 

105.  IN  the  exercise  of  this  same  faculty  of  ab- 
straction we  may  either,  as  in  the  various  instances  al- 
ready mentioned,  employ  ourselves  in  setting  off  from 
some  complex  notion,  one  by  one,  its  several  constitu- 
ents, until  we  arrive  at  that  which  admits  of  no  fur- 
ther separation,  or,  otherwise,  we  may  take  up  an  ab- 
stract idea  or  a  principle,  whether  it  be  of  the  simplest 
order  or  not,  and  then  look  about  for  the  same  idea  or 
principle  as  it  is  to  be  met  with  elsewhere,  imbodied 
under  very  different  conditions,  and  combined  with 
other  elements. 

106.  Instances  of  this  kind  meet  us  at  every  step 
throughout  the    circle   of  the  physical  sciences;    in 
truth,  such  instances  constitute  the  staple  of  these  sci- 
ences, and  they  are  so  abundant  that  they  need  not  be 


METAPHYSICS:   CONCRETIVE  ABSTRACTIONS.     57 

mentioned  otherwise  than  briefly  in  illustration  of 
what  we  now  intend.  The  "  laws  of  nature,"  as  they 
are  called,  are,  as  to  our  mode  of  conceiving  of  them, 
certain  abstract  notions,  which  we  recognize  as  we  find 
them  taking  effect  in  a  multitude  of  diversified  in- 
stances. 

107.  Newton's  falling  apple  suggested  to  him  a 
"law,"  which  he  perceived  to  take  effect  in  determin- 
ing the  revolution  of  the  moon  in  her  orbit,  and  then 
again  to  prevail  throughout  the  planetary  system. 
When  the  ascent  of  water  under  a  vacuum  came  to  be 
truly  understood,  the  rise  of  mercury  in  a  tube,  under 
the  same  conditions,  was  seen  to  be  an  instance  expli- 
cable by  means  of  the  same  law ;  and  then  the  heights 
respectively  to  which  the  two  fluids  will  rise  in  vacua 
were  found  to  correspond  to  the  specific  gravity  of  the 
two  as  weighed  against  the  terrestrial  atmosphere, 
thus  confirming  the  principle  that  had  been  assumed. 
Those  innumerable  analogies  which  are  found  to  pre- 
vail between  vegetable  and  animal  organizations  are 
instances  of  the  same  kind ;  as,  for  example,  the  sev- 
eral processes  of  nutrition,  excretion,  respiration,  se- 
cretion, are  found  to  be,  to  a  certain  extent,  identical 
in  principle ;  that  is  to  say,  a  law,  which,  as  we  appre- 
hend it,  is  not  a  reality  any  where  existing,  but  is  a 
pure  abstraction,  is  recognized  in  this,  in  that,  in  many 
instances,  which,  at  the  first  view  of  them,  differ  in 
many  respects,  and  they  so  differ  that  it  is  with  an 
emotion,  first  of  surprise  and  then  of  pleasure,  that  we 
catch  the  identity  which  has  been  concealed,  as  we 
might  say,  hitherto,  within  the  folds  of  many  exterior 
diversities. 

C2 


58  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

108.  Abstractions  of  this  kind  may  properly  be 
called  CONCEETIVE,  because  their  tendency  is  to  gath- 
er around  themselves  other  adjuncts  than  those  with 
which,  at  first,  they  may  have  presented  themselves 
to  our  view.     The  human  mind,  when  once  its  facul- 
ties have  been  pleasurably  stimulated  in  this  manner, 
eagerly  goes  in  quest  of  these  instances  of  sameness 
amid  differences.     The  mind  is  never  wearied  in  the 
pursuit  of  this  ever-fresh  intellectual  gratification ;  this 
appetite  of  the  reason  meets  no  satiety  in  its  indulg- 
ence. 

109.  As  well  in  gaining  possession  of  these  concre- 
tive  abstractions  at  the  first  as  in   pursuing  them 
through  all  diversities  of  form,  it  is  the  same  faculty 
that  is  brought  into  exercise  as  in  the  analytic  proc- 
esses which  we  have  already  spoken  of.      But  now 
we  find  ourselves  to  be  moving  in  a  contrary  direc- 
tion, and  we  have  also  now  another  end  in  view. 

110.  Nor  is  this  the  only  difference  between  the 
two  mental  exercises ;  for  the  state  of  mind  which  is 
produced  by  the  one  when  it  has  become  a  habit  of 
thought,  is  in  utter  contrast  with  that  state  of  mind 
which  is  produced  by  the  other  when  it  also  has  be- 
come a  habit  of  thought  in  the  individual  mind. 

111.  In  following  out,  to  their  last  stage,  those  proc- 
esses which  yield  what  we  have  called  ultimate  ab- 
stractions, we  are,  in  a  manner,  driven  forward  by  a 
stern  impulse,  which  forbids  our  stopping  short  any 
where,  so  long  as  to  advance  another  step  may  be  pos- 
sible ;   and  when  at  length  we  reach  that  last  posi- 
tion— a  position  on  the  very  verge  of  the  region  that 
is  accessible  to  the  human  intellect,  we  retrace  our 


METAPHYSICS:     CONCKETIVE   ABSTRACTIONS.       59 

steps  with  little  of  the  feeling  of  having  gathered  any 
fruit,  or  of  having  in  any  sense  enriched  ourselves  in- 
tellectually. In  place  of  a  pleasurable  emotion  of  this 
kind,  there  has  come  upon  us  a  gloom  and  the  discom- 
fort of  having  looked  into  an  abyss — a  dark  void, 
where,  if  we  were  to  plunge  into  it,  a  hopeless  skepti- 
cism must  be  our  portion. 

112.  Wholly  of  another  kind  is  the  feeling  with 
which,  after  we  have  clearly  apprehended  some  law  of 
this  concretive  kind,  we  set  out  in  quest  of  it,  as  it 
may  be  hidden  beneath  all  kinds  of  outward  dissimi- 
larities.    In  this  hopeful  and  fruitful  quest  we  take 
range  through  the  ancient  universe,  and  meet  what  we 
are  in  search  of  at  almost  every  turn.     The  feeling  is 
that  of  acquisition,  not  of  loss ;  a  feeling  of  confidence, 
not  of  diffidence ;  of  sure  belief,  not  of  skepticism. 

113.  In  those  departments  of  science  which  are  ob- 
servational and  experimental,  we  find  what  we  are 
seeking  for;  in  those  which  are  inventive  and  con- 
structive, we  make  what  we  are  seeking  for.    In  chem- 
istry, for  example,  we  find  the  law  of  definite  propor- 
tions in  the  combination  of  elements.     In  mechanics, 
when  its  principles  are  apprehended,  we  create  the  ap- 
plications of  them  in  such  forms  as  may  suit  our  pur- 
poses. 

114.  It  is  the  perception  of  difference  that  first 
awakens  attention,  and  which  attracts  the  eye  and 
stimulates  the  mind ;  but  then  it  is  the  perception  of 
sameness,  or  identity,  that  leads  it  forward,  as  if  by  a 
charm.     The  two  perceptions  alternately  taking  effect, 
constitute  the  fascination  of  the  philosophic  life.    This, 
however,  is  a  subject  that  belongs  to  our  after  course. 


60  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

115.  The  sameness  or  identity  which  has  present- 
ed itself  as  an  abstract  notion  tempts  us  to  look  for  it 
elsewhere  among  diverse  forms,  or  to  give  effect  to  it 
in  other  modes,  and  it  is  thus  that  it  becomes  concre- 
tive. 

116.  For  instance,  in  making  use  of  a  lever  for  up- 
lifting a  heavy  mass,  I  find  that  I  am  in  command  of 
a  great  advantage  —  I  am   using  a  power,  as  I  am 
tempted  to  call  it,  without  the  aid  of  which  my  utmost 
strength  would  be  insufficient  to  produce  the  desired 
effect.     But  whence  comes  this  advantage  ?     Is  there, 
in  fact,  any  power — is  there  any  vitality  in  this  iron 
rod  ?     This  is  not  to  be  supposed.     I  find,  or  I  am 
taught,  that  the  helpful  property  of  the  lever  results 
simply  from  this — that  by  lodging  it  upon  a  solid  sup- 
port very  near  to  one  end,  I  am  able  to  bring  about  a 
compromise  between  space  and  time.     I  spread  the 
muscular  force  over  a  large  space  as  compared  with 
that  space  within  which  the  other  end  is  to  take  effect. 
Here,  then,  I  have  before  me,  in  this  compromise,  a 
principle  which  I  conceive  of  abstractedly ;  and  now, 
putting  out  of  view  the  lever  and  the  adjustments  for 
applying  it,  I  go  on  to  inquire  whether  the  same  prin- 
ciple might  not  be  brought  into  use  under,  perhaps, 
very  different  conditions  ;  and  so,  in  fact,  it  is,  in  what 
are  called  "  the  mechanical  powers." 

117.  The  lever  and  the  screw  are  engines  which,  to 
the  eye,  are  wholly  unlike,  and  so  are  the  wheel  and 
axle,  and  the  wedge,  and  the  inclined  plane,  and  the 
pulley,  which  yet  are  one  as  to  their  reason,  though, 
to  make  them  available  for  mechanical  purposes,  they 
are  different  in  form  and  structure.     To  the  unin- 


METAPHYSICS:    CONCRETIVE   ABSTRACTIONS.        61 

structed  these  appliances  may  seem  to  derive  the  pow- 
er which  we  impute  to  them  from  wholly  different 
sources.  It  is  only  when  instructed  that  we  learn  to 
trace  this  supposed  power  to  its  one  origin  in  the  same 
law  of  compromise. 

118.  The  more  thoroughly  and  distinctly  we  gain 
possession  of  any  such  law  in  the  form  of  an  abstract 
notion,  the  more  likely  are  we  to  use  it  concretively  ; 
that  is  to  say,  to  give  it  expression,  and  to  realize  it, 
under  some  hitherto  not-thought-of  conditions.     This 
abstract  conception  of  the  law  which  takes  effect  in 
the  mechanical  powers — the  lever,  the  screw,  and  the 
others,  when  it  comes  to  combine  itself  with  the  law 
of  fluids  as  to  equal  pressure  in  all  directions,  leads  to 
the  idea  of  the  Hydraulic  Press,  which,  at  the  first 
view  of  it,  may  appear  to  derive  the  enormous  force  it 
places  at  our  command  from  some  hidden  power  which 
must  be  altogether  new,  and  which  must  differ  essen- 
tially from  that  of  the  lever  and  the  screw.     But  we 
find  it  is  not  so.     The  abstract  idea  prevailing  in  each 
of  these  instances  tends  to  bring  itself  out  in  these  and 
other  modes,  and  thus  it  becomes  concretive. 

119.  As  we  may  gain  power  by  extending  the  space 
through  which  the  first  moving  force  acts  —  for  in- 
stance, in  the  lever,  when  it  is  used  as  above  mention- 
ed— so,  to  suit  other  purposes,  we  may  gain  speed  by 
a  sacrifice  of  power,  as  in  that  sort  of  lever  of  which 
the  oar  is  an  instance ;  and  such,  too,  is  the  human 
arm,  and  the  legs  of  quadrupeds,  and  the  wings  of 
birds,  and  the  fins  of  fishes ;  and  such  is  the  paddle- 
wheel  of  the  steam-boat.     The  principle  is  one,  the 
adjuncts  and  applications  are  various. 


62  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

120.  But  again :  Mass  and  Velocity  give  Moment- 
um or  force,  derived  from  the  vis  inertice  of  matter, 
and  this  force  may  become  prodigiously  great.     Thus 
it  is  that  a  hammer,  wielded  by  a  feeble  hand,  drives 
a  nail  into  an  oak  board  which  the  strongest  arm  would 
not  be  able  to  push  into  it.     Look  at  the  steam-ham- 
mer ;  or  see  what  is  done  when  the  point-blank  fire  of 
heavy  guns  is  effecting  a  breach  in  a  granite  pier.    The 
idea  of  force  thus  obtainable  for  mechanical  purposes, 
by  giving  a  high  speed  to  a  mass  of  solid  matter,  be- 
comes the  fertile  source  of  almost  innumerable  con- 
trivances ;  and  it  does  so  concretively.    Might  not  this 
principle  be  applied  even  to  a  soft  substance  if  a  speed 
proportionately  great  were  imparted  to  it?     It  is  so 
when  an  inch  of  candle  is  fired  from  a  gun,  and  actu- 
ally passes  through  a  deal  board. 

121.  A  body  in  falling,  that  is,  when  acted  upon  by 
gravitation,  acquires  speed,  constantly  increasing  the 
farther  it  falls ;  and  thus  it  gets  force — force  enough 
to  carry  it  up  again  near  to  the  level  from  whence  it 
had  started ;  so  that  if  a  little  more  force  be  added  to 
it  from  some  other  power,  this  addition  will  suffice  for 
carrying  it  quite  up  to  that  first  level,  and  thus  the 
fall  and  the  rise  may  be  repeated  forever.     So  it  is 
that  the  bob  of  a  pendulum  oscillates,  performing  the 
same  journey  through  space  again  and  again,  only  sup- 
posing that,  at  the  point  of  each  return,  it  receives  a 
little  additional  impulse  from  the  weight  or  the  coiled 
spring,  just  enough  to  make  up  for  what  it  has  lost 
from  friction  and  the  resistance  of  the  atmosphere. 

122.  But  we  may  draw  instances  of  the  concretive 
process  from  a  very  different  field.      The  conceptions 


METAPHYSICS:  CONCKETIVE  ABSTRACTIONS.      63 

we  entertain  of  moral  qualities  are  abstractions  mere- 
ly ;  nevertheless,  they  are,  or  they  may  be,  perfectly 
distinct,  and  they  are  such  that  we  easily  recognize 
them  under  all  diversities  of  circumstance  in  the  con- 
duct and  behavior  of  those  around  us.  What  is  Gen- 
erosity, or  Patriotism,  or  Self-denial  ?  what  is  Ava- 
rice, or  Pride,  or  Cruelty  ?  As  to  these  distinctions  in 
temper,  feeling,  conduct,  action,  we  need  no  instruction 
for  discriminating  them ;  we  need  no  carefully-worded 
definitions  to  prevent  our  taking  one  for  the  other ;  we 
need  no  scientific  analysis  of  their  constituents  to  place 
them  in  our  view  free  from  uncertainty.  As  often  as 
a  certain  line  of  conduct  or  order  of  temper  comes  be- 
fore us,  a  perfectly  definite  idea  is  suggested  to  us,  and 
an  emotion  is  excited,  which  varies  very  little  merely 
in  accordance  with  the  particular  circumstances  that 
may  have  attended  the  occurrence  in  question. 

123.  But  now,  as  to  these  definite  moral  abstrac- 
tions, how  do  they  come  to  be  concretive  ?  When  one 
such  notion — say  that  of  self-denying  beneficence — has 
lodged  itself  in  the  mind,  and  has  become  a  centre  or 
a  nucleus  of  the  moral  sentiments  in  the  individual,  it 
suggests  such  courses  of  conduct  as  shall  imbody  it. 
Or  let  us  take  an  instance  which  may  be  less  open  to 
ambiguity.  The  author  of  a  fiction — whether  it  be  a 
drama,  an  epic  poem,  or  a  novel — takes  to  himself,  as 
his  guiding  principle,  some  one  or  more  of  these  moral 
abstractions,  whether  on  the  side  of  virtue  or  of  vice, 
and  then  he  invents  occasions  and  imagines  circum- 
stances which  shall  be  fit  for  calling  forth  this  quality 
and  for  giving  a  characteristic  expression  to  it.  In 
this  manner  the  notion  concretes  itself;  and  it  does  so 


64  THE  WORLD   OF  MIND. 

in  all  conceivable  modes  until  it  has  run  itself  through 
the  history  of  a  life :  it  makes  itself  the  one  reason  of 
a  man's  fortunes  or  of  his  misfortunes ;  it  is  the  solu- 
tion of  every  enigma  in  his  behavior  amid  that  current 
of  events  which  have  given  variety  to  the  story. 

124.  But  now  it  is  evident  that  we  may  either  take 
up  an  abstraction  of  this  class,  and  then  employ  our- 
selves in  gathering  around  it  its  suitable  adjuncts,  its 
fitting  circumstances,  and  its   manifestations,  or  we 
may  place  before  us  some  such  actual  assemblage  of 
adjuncts,  enveloping  or  expressing  a  single  abstract 
idea ;  and  then,  looking  at  the  concrete  as  a  whole,  we 
may  examine  and  criticise  the  work,  and  we  may  come 
to  the  conclusion  either  that  all  the  parts  are  what  and 
where  they  should  be,  or  else  we  find  fault  with  the 
artist  as  one  who  is  unskillful  in  his  line. 

125.  Now  from  this  source — from  the  examination 
of  a  concrete  mass — when  all  is  found  to  be  in  har- 
mony, and  when  the  parts  cohere  perfectly  with  each 
other,  and  when  every  thing  is  in  accordance  with  the 
ruling  idea  of  the  whole,  we  receive  a  pleasurable  and 
lively  impression,  and  which  we  speak  of  as  arising 
from  the  sense  of  FITNESS  and  ORDER. 


VI. 
METAPHYSICS: 

THE   SENSE   OF   FITNESS  AND   ORDER. 

126.  THIS,  whether  or  not  in  strictness  we  should 
call  it  an  instinctive  feeling,  has  in  fact  been  regarded 
as  an  elementary  constituent  of  the  human  mind.  The 


METAPHYSICS :    SENSE   OF  FITNESS  AND    ORDER.   65 

question  whether  it  be  so  or  not  does  not  belong  to 
this  stage  of  our  subject.  But  the  sense  or  feeling 
itself  has  a  direct  bearing  upon  metaphysical  specula- 
tions, which  we  must  not  fail  to  take  account  of,  and 
which  requires  it  here  to  be  brought  forward. 

127.  Great  stress,  and  very  justly,  has  been  laid 
upon  this  instinctive  feeling  in  the  momentous  argu- 
ment concerning  the  grounds  of  Abstract  Theology. 
In  this  place  all  we  need  do  is  to  show  in  what  way 
it  may  serve  to  restore  that  equilibrium  in  the  mind 
which  is  liable  to  be  disturbed  in  the  course  of  an  ex- 
clusive attention  to  metaphysical  abstractions. 

128.  We  have  just  now  supposed  there  to  be  in 
our  view  some  aggregate — some  mechanism  or  some 
organization,  in  which  various  adjuncts  surround,  and 
combine  to  give  effect  to,  a  law — this  law  being,  in 
that  case  and  for  that  reason,  a  concretive  abstraction. 

129.  What  we  are  here  in  search  of  is  ONENESS  and 
singleness  of  intention,  and  we  are  to  find  it  as  a  centre 
toward  which  the  parts  converge,  so  that  each  adjunct 
is  seen  to  draw  its  reason  from  this  one  governing  idea. 

130.  In  setting  out  upon  such  a  quest,  we  must  dis- 
tinguish between  ill-fitting  of  parts  one  to  the  others, 
and  the  fitness  of  parts  in  their  relation  to  the  whole, 
of  which  they  are  the  constituents.     In  the  first,  these 
parts  may  be  more  or  fewer,  indefinitely ;  in  the  sec- 
ond, no  supernumeraries  should  have  any  place. 

131.  The  fragments  of  a  quarry  of  glass  or  a  china 
plate  are  before  me  in  a  confused  heap.     By  some 
painstaking  I  succeed  in  finding  the  neighbor  pieces  to 
each  of  these  fragments,  and  at  length  I  dispose  them 
all  precisely  as  they  were  placed  in  the  unbroken  plate. 


66  THE  WORLD   OF  MIND. 

This  is  only  a  fitting  of  parts ;  but  if  the  plate  at  first 
were  a  perfect  circle,  or  an  oval,  or  a  hexagon,  then, 
if  this  geometric  figure  be  taken  as  the  rule,  or  as  the 
law  which  is  to  determine  the  place  of  all  the  parts,  it 
leads  me  not  merely  to  take  care  that  edge  fits  edge 
every  where,  but  that,  when  at  length  all  the  pieces 
have  been  so  fitted,  they  may  make  up  the  figure,  the 
circle,  or  the  oval,  or  the  hexagon,  in  accordance  with 
its  original  contour.  If  it  be  so,  then  all  is  right; 
and  this  word  right,  which  I  thus  instinctively  employ, 
means  this,  that  the  fragments,  whether  they  be  a 
dozen  or  a  hundred,  have  now  become  ONE.  Together, 
they  realize  the  abstract  idea  of  the  original  plate ; 
they  are  what  the  maker  of  it  intended. 

132.  Let  the  fragments  before  me  be  those  of  a  vase 
decorated  with  wreaths  and  figures.     The  broken  and 
scattered  pieces  must  be  brought  to  fit  one  to  another : 
this  is  the  first  condition  of  the  process ;  but  when 
they  are  so  fitted,  the  contour  of  the  vase  must  be 
satisfied ;  for,  perchance  the  fragments  in  hand  have 
belonged  to  two  vases,  differing  in  outline ;  but  then 
the  aggregate  would  not  constitute  a  whole  ;  or,  per- 
chance, these  pieces  are  parts  of  two  vases  of  the  same 
form  and  dimensions ;  and  although,  therefore,  they 
might  be  made  to  fit,  yet  the  decorations  upon  them 
would  not  agree — the  artist's  idea  would  not  be  brought 
out.     We  must,  at  the  last,  see  before  us  a  oneness  in 
all  respects,  or,  if  we  can  not  effect  it,  we  must  aban- 
don our  task  as  impracticable. 

133.  But  if,  indeed,  all  be  right— if  the  fittings  be 
exact — if  the  contour  be  true,  and  if  the  painted  deco- 
rations be  complete,  then  we  contemplate  the  whole 


METAPHYSICS  :    SENSE  OF  FITNESS  AND  ORDER.       67 

with  a  feeling  so  lively  that  it  may  be  called  an  emo- 
tion ;  it  is  a  vivid  consciousness  of  truth  and  reality. 
Such  is  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind  that  it 
comes  to  a  rest,  with  satisfaction,  whenever  it  is  able, 
in  this  manner,  to  bring  dissimilar  or  disjointed  objects 
to  accordance  and  to  unity. 

134.  In  following  this  sense  of  fitness  through  va- 
rious instances,  we  may  see  how  strong  a  hold  it  has 
upon  the  reason  and  upon  the  primary  instincts  of  the 
human  mind  ;  in  fact,  this  hold  proves  itself  to  be  im- 
movably firm ;  and  we  shall  find  that  it  affords  an  ef- 
fective means  of  counteracting  that  tendency  to  uni- 
versal doubt  which  belongs  to,  or  which  follows  in  the 
track  of  purely  abstract  speculation. 

135.  In  proportion  as  the  intellectual  faculties  are 
predominant,  and  if  they  be  also  in  a  healthy  condi- 
tion, the  tendency  is  strong  to  simplify,  and  to  reduce 
things  to  classes,  and  to  generalize — all  which  proc- 
esses, though  they  differ  according  to  the  objects  to 
which  they  relate,  are  in  substance  the  same :  they  are 
the  several  methods  by  means  of  which  differences, 
however  many,  are  brought  to  a  oneness,  at  least  as 
to  the  mind's  apprehension  of  them.     At  each  stage 
of  such  a  process,  and  as  often  as  things  which  had 
appeared  to  be  irreconcilably  unlike  and  dissonant,  or 
contradictory,  are  brought  into  relation  one  to  the  other 
on  some  harmonizing  principle,  there  takes  place  a  con- 
sciousness of  satisfaction — a  rest,  as  if  at  length  we 
had  set  foot  on  firm  ground. 

136.  When  any  one  who  is  highly  gifted  with  the 
faculty  of  order  enters  upon  a  department  wherein 
confusion  has  long  ruled,  mixing  and  confounding  all 


68  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

things,  his  task — hopeless  as  at  first  it  seems,  and  in- 
tolerably laborious — quickly  affords  him  so  much  of 
this  instinctive  pleasure  that  he  commences  each  day's 
work  with  more  and  more  alacrity :  that  which  had 
appeared  as  if  it  must  forever  defy  his  skill  and  indus- 
try has  already  submitted  itself  to  his  reason — it  has 
yielded  to  a  law  of  arrangement ;  and  at  every  step 
that  is  made  on  the  road  of  order,  the  next  step  has 
become  more  easy,  and  it  is  more  agreeable. 

137.  We  take  an  instance  of  a  different  kind.     The 
works  of  a  clock — the  wheels,  the  pinions,  the  barrel, 
and  cord  and  weight,  the  pendulum,  the  bell,  the  striker, 
and  the  rest,  with  the  wooden  framework  and  supports, 
are  confusedly  put  before  me.     I  am  not  told  what  is 
the  intention  of  the  machine  of  which  these  are  the 
parts,  nor  do  I  know  how  they  should  be  put  together. 
To  make  my  way  through  this  mass  of  details,  I  take 
up  the  pieces  at  random,  offering  them  one  to  the  oth- 
er, to  ascertain  which  of  them  may  be  made  to  fit  or  to 
work  together.     At  length  the  parts  of  the  machine 
become  grouped,  two,  three,  or  more  together.     These 
groups  are  then  conjecturally  assorted ;   and  after  a 
while,  as  each  successful  adjustment  indicates  another, 
the  machine  has  become  one — the  parts  constitute  a 
whole  ;  and  the  feeling  with  which  I  survey  the  result 
of  my  labor  is  nearly  the  same  as  that  with  which  I 
had  looked  at  the  restored  vase. 

138.  I  then  use  the  winch  :   the  cord  is  wound  upon 
the  barrel ;  the  weight  is  at  its  limit  of  height ;  but  all 
is  motionless,  and,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  it  is  purposeless 
also.    But  by  accident  I  jog  the  pendulum,  and  instant- 
ly it  is  as  if  life  were  breathed  into  this  congeries  of 


METAPHYSICS  I    SENSE  OF  FITNESS  AND  ORDER        69 

brass  circles  :  all  is  now  at  work ;  and  this  spectacle 
of  accordant  rotation  awakens  a  new  feeling  of  satis- 
faction. There  is  before  me  not  only  a  perfect  fitting 
of  parts,  but  &  fitness  of  all  the  parts — not  one  except- 
ed — to  promote  this  tranquil  and  uniform  scheme  of 
revolution  ;  and,  moreover,  beyond  this  fitness  there  is 
order,  for  there  is  a  series  of  adjustments,  as  well  as 
a  collocation  of  them.  The  hands,  for  whatever  pur- 
pose, traverse  the  figured  dial,  the  one  at  twelve  times 
the  speed  of  the  other.  At  equal  distances,  as  meas- 
ured and  figured  on  the  dial,  the  bell  is  struck,  and  it 
is  struck  as  many  times  as  the  hands  have  made  rev- 
olutions, or  have  traversed  equal  parts  of  the  circle. 

139.  Let  it  now  be  by  chance  that  I  notice  the 
agreement  of  the  motions  of  this  machine  with  the 
diurnal  revolution  of  the  earth:  the  machine  I  find 
to  be  in  accordance  with  the  planetary  mechanism, 
and  thus  its  purpose  becomes  manifest.  The  per- 
ception of  this  purpose  awakens  a  new  feeling,  or  it 
greatly  enhances  that  which  had  already  been  excited. 
I  now  look  at  the  machine  as  ONE  in  regard  to  the 
structure  of  its  parts,  and  it  is  ONE  also  in  respect  of 
the  equable  movement  which  ensues  when  its  moving 
force  is  brought  into  combination  with  the  counteract- 
ive movement  of  the  pendulum  ;  and  beyond  this  I 
find  it  to  be  ONE  in  respect  of  its  ultimate  intention  or 
final  cause  ;  and  this  intention  is  in  harmony  with  the 
mechanism  of  the  heavens.  A  worthy  intention,  well 
and  perfectly  secured !  and  it  yields  me  an  aid  that  is 
inestimably  important  in  the  distribution  and  allot- 
ment of  my  labors  through  the  day  :  itself  it  is  a  sym- 
bol of  order,  and  it  is  the  source  of  order  to  those  whose 
servant  it  is. 


70  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

140.  To  note  and  to  take  account  of  differences  is 
the  first  instinct  of  reason ;  to  note  and  take  account 
of  a  sameness  connecting  such  differences,  and  reduc- 
ing them  to  accordance,  is  the  second  instinct  of  reason. 
When  the  one  duly  follows  the  other,  reason  comes  to 
its  rest,  or  to  its  state  of  acquiescence ;  and  this  rest 
takes  its  character  from  that  condition  of  the  mind  to 
which,  at  the  moment,  it  happens  to  be  opposed.    For 
instance,  it  may  be  opposed  to  confusion  or  distraction ; 
it  may  be  opposed  to  the  sense  of  contrariety,  or  inco- 
herence and  incongruity;   or  it  may  be  opposed  to 
doubt  or  to  disbelief. 

141.  To  each  of  these  antagonisms  this  rest  of  the 
intellect  brings  relief,  or  it  entirely  composes  them. 
Our  present  purpose  is  to  show  in  what  way  the  ac- 
quiescence which  is  obtainable  from  the  sense  of  order 
and  fitness  affords  a  true  and  valid  counteraction  to 
the  disquiet  and  the  skepticism  which  are  the  fruit  of 
metaphysical  speculations,  when  such  speculations  have 
engaged  the  mind  in  an  exclusive  manner  for  a  length 
of  time. 


VII. 

GROUNDS  OF  CERTAINTY   IN   RELATION   TO   METAPHYS- 
ICAL  SPECULATION. 

142.  As  to  any  of  those  instinctive  convictions  or 
assumptions  which  are  the  basis  of  our  intellectual 
structure,  and  from  which  all  reasoning  must  take  its 
start,  it  would  be  a  mere  solecism  to  ask  for  logical 
proof  of  their  certainty.  No  meaning  can  attach  to 


METAPHYSICS:  GROUNDS  OF  CERTAINTY.       71 

the  words  in  which  such  a  demand  might  be  con- 
veyed. 

143.  Propositions  that  are  indeed  susceptible  of 
logical  treatment  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  them 
as  certain  will  always  contain  two  or  more  ideas,  the 
connection  between  which  may  be  shown  to  be  such 
as  is  therein  affirmed,  or  the  contrary ;  but  an  intuition 
or  an  instinctive  conviction  has  no  constituents ;  it  has 
no  parts ;  there  is  nothing  in  it  that  is  complex,  or 
that  implies  any  sort  of  interior  relationship. 

144.  We  believe  those  things  which  may  be  shown 
to  be  certain  or  to  be  probable  by  exhibiting  their  in- 
ferential connection  with  some  other  thing  that  has 
been  assumed  as  indisputable,  and  which  is  anterior  to 
the  matter  in  question.     But  these  intuitions,  by  the 
very  terms  in  which  they  are  conveyed,  can  have  noth- 
ing anterior  to  themselves,  nor  can  they  ever  come  be- 
fore us  in  the  form  of  inferences  that  are  logically  valid. 
Why  do  you  believe  your  own  existence  ?     There  can 
be  no  room  for  a  "  why"  in  this  case :    the   cogito, 
ERGO  sum,  is  a  mere  quibble;    it  is  an  unmeaning 
play  upon  words. 

145.  But  is  this  the  fact,  then,  that,  as  to  the  cer- 
tainty of  our  knowledge,  and  as  to  the  foundations  of 
human  reason,  we  must  be  content  to  float  over  an 
abyss  into  which  we  dare  not  look,  and  concerning 
which  we  must  ask  no  questions  ?     It  is  even  so  in 
one  sense,  but  it  is  not  so  in  another. 

146.  We  must  have  misunderstood  the  structure  of 
the  human  intellect  as  an  engine  of  thought  if  we  have 
set  it  to  work,  frontwise  toward  the  elements  of  knowl- 
edge.    In  like  manner  we  should  misinterpret  Nature 


72  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

if,  instead  of  digesting  food,  we  should  labor  to  digest 
elements.  It  is  the  practice  of  engineers,  in  drawing 
the  plan  and  elevation  of  a  complicated  machine,  to 
put  arrows  here  and  there  upon  the  rotatory  parts,  in 
order  to  show  the  direction  of  the  movement,  where 
else  it  might  be  misunderstood.  We  must  not  set  the 
wheels  agoing  as  from  the  product  toward  the  power, 
but  as  from  the  power  toward  the  product. 

147.  After  all,  then,  and  at  the  best,  is  there  no  cer- 
tainty to  be  obtained  in  the  region  of  mental  science  ? 
Must  we  be  content  always  to  take  things  for  grant- 
ed?    Is  it  in  the  department  of  mathematical  science 
alone  that  absolute  knowledge  or  full  assurance  is  to 
be  looked  for  ?     If  it  be  so,  our  prospects  are  gloomy. 

148.  On  what  grounds  do  you  rest  this  implied  dis- 
tinction between  mathematical  and  mental  science? 
You  will  find  there  is  nothing  valid  in  any  such  dis- 
tinction.    Mathematical  demonstration  is  a  process  of 
reasoning  which  always  flows  in  the  descending  direc- 
tion :  it  commences  with  principles  anterior  to  which 
there  is  nothing  that  is  susceptible  of  proof;   these 
must  be  simply  assumed ;  you  must  submit  to  take 
them  for  granted ;  and  you  must  do  this,  not  because 
there  is  nothing  mysterious  and  perplexing  imbedded 
in  mathematical  axioms — for  there  is — but  because  the 
human  mind  is  furnished  with  no  solvents  for  digest- 
ing these  elements.     Give  it  any  sort  of  combination, 
and  it  will  analyze  it,  and  then  go  on. 

149.  Alike — precisely  alike — in  mental  and  in  math- 
ematical science,  assurance — certainty — demonstra- 
tion, and  a  perfect  conviction  of  truth  and  reality,  are 
to  be  obtained  among  the  prc ducts  of  reason,  but  not 


METAPHYSICS:   GROUNDS  OF  CERTAINTY.        73 

higher  up  than  that  level  where  these  products  begin 
to  appear.  The  difference  as  to  certainty  between 
mental  and  mathematical  evidence  belongs  to  the  means 
employed  for  the  notation  of  the  process  and  of  the  con- 
clusion arrived  at.  We  may  arrive  at  certainty  in  the 
one  department  as  surely  as  in  the  other ;  but  in  the 
one  case  we  possess  the  means  of  noting  what  we  have 
done  to-day,  and  of  finding  it  to-morrow,  or  a  year 
hence,  just  what  and  where  we  left  it ;  in  the  other 
case — more  or  less  so — we  are  compelled  to  retrace  our 
steps  as  often  as  we  would  recover  precisely  our  for- 
mer position. 

150.  Practically,  then,  what  is  our  resource  ?    There 
is  a  resource,  and  it  is  such  that,  unless  the  individ- 
ual mind  is  ill  constructed,  or  has  sustained  damage 
from  some  mistaken  treatment,  it   abundantly  sub- 
serves its  purpose.     We  find  what  we  need  in  that 
sense  of  FITNESS  and  ORDER  of  which  just  now  we  have 
spoken. 

151.  When  proof  is  demanded  of  that  first  of  all 
certainties,  our  own  existence,  it  appears  that  the  most 
valid  answer  which  we  can  give — if  it  must  be  given 
with  logical  formality — is  nothing  better  than  a  quib- 
ble— cogitO)  ergo  sum.     We  may  well  call  this  grave 
pretense  of  demonstration  a  quibble ;  for,  as  soon  as  I 
come  to  attacli  any  distinguishable  meaning  to  the 
cogito)  I  have  laid  hold  of  whatever  may  be  contained 
in  the  sum,  and  vice  versd.     The  ergo,  therefore,  can 
express  no  inferential  dependence  of  the  one  term  upon 
the  other. 

152.  If,  then,  I  can  not  logically  establish  the  cer- 
tainty of  my  own  existence  at  this  passing  moment, 

D 


74  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

when,  with  the  most  confidence,  I  believe  myself  to 
exist,  how  can  I  furnish  any  such  evidence  of  my  ex- 
istence in  time  past,  or  how  prove  my  continuous  per- 
sonal identity  through  the  lapse  of  years  ?  Why 
should  I  believe  this  imagined  recollection  of  the  gone- 
by  time — these  days  and  years  past — to  be  any  thing 
more  real  than  so  many  phenomena,  making  up  to- 
gether the  one  phenomenon  of  my  existence  at  this 
moment  ?  They  may  be  so,  and  nothing  more ;  and 
if  the  containing  phenomenon — the  now  existence — 
can  not  be  logically  vouched  for,  then  we  must  of  ne- 
cessity abandon  the  contained  phenomena — the  past — 
as  a  surmise  only.  If  so,  then,  as  to  the  entire  notion 
of  personal  existence  and  continuity  of  being,  we  must, 
it  seems,  humbly  crave  indulgence  to  retain  it  as  a 
matter  of  convenience,  but  to  which  we  can  advance 
no  legal  claim. 

153.  Those  who  have  not  done  themselves  the  jus- 
tice to  peruse  certain  books  of  a  profound  class  may 
well  be  excused  if  they  should  imagine  that  reason- 
ings of  this  order  could  never  be  seriously  advanced 
or  pursued  by  any  but  the  insane.     Yet  it  is  not  so. 
He  who  persists  in  the  endeavor  to  push  forward  after 
the  abstractive  process  has  reached  its   end,  can  do 
nothing  but  exhibit  himself  whirling  in  an  eddy  where 
he  loses  his  hold  of  common  sense. 

154.  Let  it  for  a  moment  be  imagined,  not  that 
we  should  attempt  to  make  good  by  logic  that  which 
logic  has  no  power  either  to  establish  or  to  impugn, 
but  that  the  reality  of  our  continuous  consciousness, 
and  the  faith  we  have  in  our  personal  identity,  through 
a  track  of  time,  were  allowed  to  need  correlative  con- 


METAPHYSICS:   GROUNDS  OF  CERTAINTY.       75 

firmation,  or  to  admit  of  some  attestation  for  its  bet- 
ter support. 

155.  In  showing  whence  any  such  confirmatory  ev- 
idence might,  if  indeed  it  were  needed,  be  drawn,  it 
must  not  be  imagined  that  we  have  any  object  in  view 
beyond  this,  namely,  to  exemplify  a  method  of  which 
some  use  may  be  made  hereafter  on  occasions  where  a 
degree  of  ambiguity  may  be  admitted  to  present  itself. 

156.  Let,  then,  any  one  imagine  that  he  retains  a 
perfect  recollection  of  the  dreams  of  the  past  night, 
and,  moreover,  that  he  remembers  the  dreams  of  the 
nights  of  many  weeks  or  months.    In  this  case  he  will 
have  in  his  view,  as  we  might  say,  two  masses  or  bod- 
ies of  continuous  being,  or  two  consciousnesses,  and 
then,  with  the  two  outstretched  and  distinctly  in  pros- 
pect, and  which,  though  similar  in  their  elements,  dif- 
fer very  much  in  their  characteristics,  he  may  ask  to 
which  of  these  two  series  shall  he  attribute  reality,  and 
of  which  shall  he  affirm  that  it  is  true — not  merely 
true  in  so  far  as  his  consciousness  is  concerned,  but 
true  objectively,  and  real  also,  in  its  bearing  upon  the 
outer  world  and  upon  other  men  ?    They  are  not  both 
true  alike,  for  in  various  particulars  the  two  contradict 
or  exclude  each  other ;  if  the  one  series  be  true,  the 
other  must  be  false.     Or  shall  he  deny  reality  to  both 
alike  ? 

157.  We  must  decide  between  the  dream-life  and 
the  day-life  in  some  other  way  than  by  giving  our  con- 
fidence to  that  one  of  the  two  which  always  asserts  its 
own  reality.     However  strange  or  monstrous  a  dream 
may  be,  we  do  not,  while  dreaming,  question  its  real- 
ity ;  we  passively  accept  it  as  real ;   and  hence  the 


76  THE   WOULD   OF   MIND. 

liveliness  of  the  pleasure  which  attends  the  moment 
of  awaking  from  a  distressing  dream — the  phantasm 
is  "only  a  dream!"  But  now  it  has  happened  to 
many  in,  the  course  of  years,  and  on  occasion  of  some 
new  and  agitating  event,  to  doubt,  for  a  moment,  the 
reality  of  what  is  taking  place  around  them,  and  they 
exclaim,  "  This  must  be  a  dream ;  it  can  not  be  true; 
am  I  sleeping  or  waking  ?" 

158.  Here,  then,  we  have  before  us  —  and  they 
stand  as  rival  claimants  to  our  confidence — the  two 
halves  or  two  distinguishable  constituents  of  our  en- 
tire consciousness ;  here  is  the  dream  portion  and  the 
(so  called)  waking  portion ;  dream-life  and  day-life  are 
litigants  in  the  court  of  consciousness.    As  to  the  one, 
while  it  is  present,  we  never  doubt  its  reality ;  but 
as  to  the  other,  we  do  sometimes  call  it  in  question. 
Why,  then,  should  we  give  judgment  against  the  uni- 
formly confident  party,  and  give  it  in  favor  of  the 
party  which  actually  falters  sometimes,  and  which,  at 
moments,  we  are  inclined  to  disallow  ?     Am  I  certain 
that  I  am  not,  in  this  instance,  taking  up  the  unreal 
and  rejecting  the  substantial  ? 

159.  The  grounds  of  this  constant  judgment  are 
obvious.     If  I  take  up  the  successive  dreams  of  only 
a  single  night,  I  find  them  much  to  resemble  so  many 
fragments  picked  up  at  random  from  a  heap  of  broken 
potteries :  there  may,  perhaps,  prevail  throughout  the 
mass  a  certain  tone  or  color,  whether  sombre  or  gay, 
but  I  can  not  bring  them  to  fit,  edge  to  edge,  in  any 
way;  the  fragments  have  no  continuity;   or  let  me 
take  the  dreams  of  Monday  night  entire,  and  endeavor 
to  join  them  on  to  the  dreams  of  Tuesday  night,  and 


METAPHYSICS :    GROUNDS  OP  CERTAINTY.  77 

so  labor  to  weave  the  week's  dreams  into  a  continuous 
fabric.  This  can  never  be  done ;  there  is  no  splicing 
of  such  fragments ;  there  is  no  cohesion  between  them ; 
there  is  no  oneness. 

160.  But,  on  the  contrary,  however  strange  and  un- 
looked-for may  have  been  the  Tuesday's  events,  Tues- 
day fits  on  to  the  Monday,  its  predecessor,  and  we 
find  it  is  even  now  fitting  itself  on  to  Wednesday. 
The  day  portions,  though  they  are  severed  always  one 
from  the  other  by  the  intervening  periods  of  dream- 
life,  yet  do  they  invariably  coalesce ;  they  melt  into  a 
congruous  mass ;  they  gather  coherence  as  they  flow 
forward  ;•  the  diversified  experiences  of  days,  months, 
years,  lodge  themselves   in  the  consciousness  as  a 
ichole;  and  although  the  earlier  and  the  more  remote 
portions  of  the  series  are  becoming  less  and  less  dis- 
tinct, yet,  as  often  as  we  turn  the  eye  toward  them  for 
the  purpose  of  retracing  their  connection  with  what 
has  followed,  we  find  we  are  able  to  do  so,  and  thus, 
from  time  to  time,  we  reperuse  our  personal  history, 
and  we  do  so  with  an  undoubting  assurance  of  its 
reality. 

161.  This  confidence,  this  perfect  assurance,  is  a 
result  of  the  structure  of  the  Hind.     It  is  not,  in  any 
case,  through  a  circuit  of  inferences,  or  by  linking  to- 
gether propositions,  that  we  are  induced  to  accept  as 
true  and  real  that  which  bears  upon  itself  the  charac- 
teristics of  coherence,  congruity,  fitness,  order.     It  is 
with  an  instantaneous  and  involuntary  confidence  that 
we  do  this.     In  the  case  which  has  just  now  been  im- 
agined, the  dream-life,  unless  the  mind  itself  were  bor- 
dering upon  insanity,  could  never  stand  a  moment's 


78  THE  WORLD   OF   MIND. 

competition  with  the  waking  life,  as  though  it  also 
might  pretend  to  be  real :  it  is  fragmentary,  incoher- 
ent, and  non-continuous. 

162.  But  even  this,  though  a  sufficient  ground,  is 
not  the  only  ground  of  its  rejection.     Mind,  as  to  its 
primary  element — the  one  element  which  is  its  first 
characteristic — is  Power.     Power  is  more  or  less  in 
act  at  different  times  and  in  different  minds,  and  in 
every  mind  it  is  subject  to  seasons  of  quiescence — it 
is  in  abeyance.     In  perfect  sleep,  the  Mind,  as  to  its 
power,  is  wholly  quiescent ;  it  has  thrown  the  reins 
from  the  hand  ;  its  control  over  the  voluntary  muscles 
is  abrogated ;  and  so  is  its  control  over  itself:  it  lies 
prostrate;  it  is  the  victim  of  whatever  phantasms  may 
hurry  across  the  field  of  the  passive  consciousness ; 
and  it  may  suffer  intensities  of  anguish  while  it  is  in 
this  helpless  condition. 

163.  But  if  "  the  night  cometh,  so  also  the  morn- 
ing ;"  and  at  the  moment  of  awaking  we  gladly  throw 
off  from  us,  as  no  parts  of  ourselves,  these  shams  of 
real  life,  whether  they  may  have  been  gay  or  sad. 
And  why  do  we  do  so  ?     Because  the  Mind,  in  respect 
of  its  primary  element,  has  had  no  part  in  these  trans- 
actions, and  can  not  be  called  to  account  in  respect  of 
them :  it  has  not  been  the  Ego  that  has  so  spoken  or 
that  has  so  acted.     No  adhesions  at  any  points  have 
had  place  between  the  mind  and  the  scenes,  the  per- 
sons, the  events  of  the  dream ;  all  is  to  us  as  though 
it  had  not  been,  and  the  sooner  it  is  cast  off  and  for- 
gotten the  better. 

164.  We  gain,  then,  an  assurance  doubly  sure  of 
the  truth  and  reality  of  our  conscious  day-life  when 


METAPHYSICS  :    GROUNDS   OF  CERTAINTY.  79 

the  sense  of  fitness,  order,  and  coherence  comes  to 
conjoin  itself  with  the  consciousness  of  power,  mixing 
itself  intimately  with  those  elements  of  consciousness 
in  relation  to  which  the  mind  is  only  passive. 

165.  It  is  in  another  kind  of  way  that  the  interac- 
tion or  the  inter-relationship  of  power  and  passivity  in 
our  consciousness  gives  us  the  irresistible  assurance  of 
truth  and  reality  when  we  have  to  do  with  beings  like 
ourselves  around  us. 

166.  When  I  believe  myself  to  be  conversing  with 
others  like  myself,  listening  to  them,  replying,  con- 
futing their  opinions,  pleading  for  my  individual  inter- 
ests as  opposed  to  theirs,  why  may  not  the  whole  re- 
solve itself  into  so  many  phenomena  of  my  own  con- 
sciousness ?     In  fact,  have  there  not  been  hours  of 
reverie  in  which  such  disputations  have  had  place  in 
my  mind,  and  which  I  have  acknowledged  to  be  of 
home  manufacture?     Why  may  not  all  be  products 
of  the  same  inventive  faculty  ?     Let  it  be  granted  that, 
logically,  we  must  fail  in  absolutely  excluding  such  a 
supposition. 

167.  In  fact,  no  hypothesis  of  this  kind  ever  lodges 
itself  in  the  Mind  as  if  it  were  entitled  to  a  place  there 
as  probable.     Why  it  does  not  is  easily  understood. 
In  the  first  place,  the  parts  that  are  severally  acted, 
the  opinions  that  are  professed,  and  the  modifications 
which  these  undergo,  as  related  to  our  own  acts  and 
opinions,  are  all  separately  coherent,  and  they  are  ad- 
hesive, part  to  part,  and  also  one  with  the  others. 
They  are  not  fragmentary,  as  are  the  dreams   of  a 
night ;  they  are  explicable  on  the  hypothesis  of  their 
objective  reality,  but  not  otherwise. 


80  THE  WORLD   OF  MIND. 

168.  But,  in  the  second  place,  as  in  the  succession 
of  dreams  we  take  no  part  voluntarily,  or  in  the  exer- 
cise of  power,  and  therefore  reject  the  whole  when  we 
awake  because  it  is  not  of  ourselves,  on  the  contrary, 
when  we  have  to  do  with  others,  we  not  only  bring 
ourselves  into  coalescence  with  the  succession  of  events 
by  exertion  of  our  own  power,  but  we  meet  another 
sort  of  evidence  of  the  objective  reality  of  the  encoun- 
ter in  the  antagonism  of  a  will  which  plants  itself 
athwart  the  path  on  which  we  would  fain  advance. 
The  reality  of  the  Mind-world,  in  the  midst  of  which 
we  are  placed,  is  thus  trebly  vouched  for :  first,  by 
its  coherence  and  its  internal  consistency ;  secondly,  by 
its  immediate  relationship  to  that  which  is  the  essence 
of  the  Mind — its  own  controlling  force ;  and,  thirdly, 
by  the  contrariety  of  forces,  or  a  resistance  which  we 
can  not  overcome,  and  which,  intuitively,  we  attribute 
to  a  will  foreign  to  our  own,  and  as  real. 

169.  It  should  be  well  understood  that  the  ground 
of  confidence  in   all  these  instances  is  not  that  of  a 
process  of  reasoning,  shutting  us  up  to  a  conclusion 
which  we  can  not  reject,  but  it  arises  from  the  struc- 
ture of  the  Mind,  which  yields  itself  involuntarily  to 
the  conviction  of  truth  whenever  it  becomes  cognizant 
of  fitness,   order,   coherence,  and  unity  of  intention. 
This  conviction  combines  itself  with  the  consciousness 
of  its  own  inherent  force.     Thus  it  is  that  when  the 
Mind  acts  in  relation  to  what  is  coherent,  it  does  not 
need  to  persuade  itself  of  the  reality  of  what  it  has  to 
do  with  any  more  than  it  does  of  the  truth  of  an  axiom 
in  geometry. 

170.  In  speaking  of  those  mixed  abstractions  (from 


METAPHYSICS  :    GEOUNDS   OF  CERTAINTY.          81 

80  to  99)  which  are  conveyed  by  the  words  power, 
causation,  liberty,  necessity,  and  the  like,  we  arrived 
at  a  conditional  conclusion,  which  was  to  this  effect : 
that  although  there  might  seem  to  be  reason  for  reject- 
ing our  first  impressions  as  to  the  liberty  of  animal 
volitions,  and  although  we  might,  by  a  sort  offeree, 
yield  to  the  doctrine  of  universal  physical  causation, 
as  prevalent  alike  in  the  worlds  of  matter  and  of  mind, 
yet  that  an  instinctive  conviction — stronger  than  logic, 
because  anterior  to  it — rebels  against  this  belief,  and 
brings  us  over,  again  and  again,  to  a  very  different 
persuasion. 

•  171.  Let  it  be  granted  that,  in  those  modes  of  for- 
mal reasoning  which  are  assumed  to  be  infallible,  it 
may  be  made  to  appear  that  the  revolution  of  planets 
and  satellites  in  their  orbits,  and  that  the  whirling  ot 
autumnal  leaves  in  the  wind,  and  that  the  gambols  of 
insects  in  the  summer's  breeze,  and,  not  less  certainly, 
the  volitions  and  actions  of  men  on  the  great  theatre 
of  life,  are  determined,  and  are  predetermined,  irrevo- 
cably and  fixedly,  under  the  domination  of  physical 
law — law  taking  effect  whether  it  be  upon  masses  of 
matter,  or  upon  animal  organizations,  or  upon  minds, 
and  this  in  such  a  manner  as  to  forbid  our  allowing 
room  for  any  distinction,  in  a  philosophic  sense,  be- 
tween any  one  order  of  sequences  and  any  other  order. 
172.  All  this  may  be  alleged,  and  it  may  be  ex- 
pressed in  the  style  of  demonstrative  reasoning ;  and 
it  may  be  said  that  none  ever  resist  this  sort  of  gener- 
alization unless  it  be  those  who  are  wanting  in  the 
logical  faculty,  or  those  in  whose  minds  vulgar  preju- 
dices prevail  over  scientific  accuracy. 

D2 


82  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

173.  It  is  much  in  this  way  that  the  materialist 
treats  the  belief  in  Mind  as  something  more  than  a  se- 
cretion from  the  brain.     It  is  in  this  tone  (or  nearly 
so)  that  the  spiritualist,  on  the  other  side,  contemns 
the  hypothesis  of  an  external  world  as  a  material  real- 
ity, a  something  existing  beyond  and  independently 
of  the  mind.     It  was  in  nearly  the  same  mood  of  log- 
ical imperiousness  that  the  Aristotelian  system  of  the 
heavens  was  affirmed  to  be  what  the  modern  astrono- 
my has  proved  that  it  is  not. 

174.  Reason — drawn  out  in  propositions,  and  these 
propositions  syllogistically  packed  together  according 
to  rule — as  it  avails  nothing  in  opening  up  the  myste- 
ries of  nature,  so  is  it  equally  powerless  either  in  es- 
tablishing or  in  refuting  those  intuitive  and  involun- 
tary persuasions  which,  in  all  cases,  are  and  must  be 
taken  as  the  ground  of  reasoning. 

175.  What  that  distinction  may  actually  be  which 
should  forbid  our  confounding  material  causation — 
gravitation,  chemical  affinity,  magnetic  force — with  ani- 
mal causation,  or  the  volitions  of  Mind,  is  a  physical 
inquiry,  in  pursuing  which  the  method  of  reasoning  by 
syllogism  is  a  sheer  illusion — it  is  a  pedantic  frivolity. 
this  physical  question,  we  need  scarcely  say,  does  not 
belong  to  Metaphysics.     But  what  we  are  intending 
is  this :  to  show  the  path  on  which  certainty  is  attain- 
able in  subjects  embraced  in  metaphysical  speculation, 
even  independently  of  any  physical  investigation. 

176.  When  we  bring  into  question  the  volitions  of 
Mind,  such  as  we  find  them  developed  through  the 
medium  of  the  animal  organization,  and  also  as  these 
volitions  belong  to  our  consciousness,  the  alternative 


METAPHYSICS:   GROUNDS  OF  CERTAINTY.       83 

is  this  :  we  may  affirm,  as  above  stated,  that,  in  a  strict 
and  philosophic  sense,  there  is  no  difference  between 
these  volitions  and  the  fixed  sequences  which  are  tak- 
ing place  in  the  world  of  inorganic  matter ;  that  is  to 
say,  no  difference  in  respect  of  their  uniform  subjuga- 
tion to  law — law,  in  relation  to  which  matter  and  Mind 
alike  yield  to  an  established  scheme  of  causation  an- 
terior to  itself.  This  is  one  doctrine. 

177.  Another  belief,  and  which  remains  as  our  al- 
ternative, is  this :   that  the  volitions  of  MIND  differ 
from  physical  sequences  in  some  absolute,  though  it 
may  be  inscrutable  manner ;  that  laws,  such  as  those 
of  gravitation,  chemical  affinity,  magnetism,  vegetative 
growth,  and  animal  life  (considered  as  organization 
merely),  do  not  take  effect  within  the  world  of  Mind; 
or  otherwise  worded,  that  MIND  is  free  in  a  sense,* 
whatever  it  may  be,  in  which  nothing  else  in  the  uni- 
verse is  free.     As  we  have  affirmed  that  Mind  is  the 
only  power  (known  to  us  directly),  so  we  say  that  it  is 
the  prerogative  of  Mind,  and  of  Mind  alone,  to  be  free. 

178.  But  if  we  are  to  make  our  choice  between  these 
two  doctrines,  on  what  ground  shall  we  proceed  to  do 
so  ?     The  first  of  these  beliefs  is  recommended  by  its 
apparent  simplicity.     There  is  no  causation,  we  are 
told,  but  physical  causation ;  the  notion  of  liberty,  in 
any  sense  whatever,  is  a  popular  illusion.     Given,  in 
any  case,  the  instincts  or  the  dispositions  of  an  animal, 
whether  it  be  man  or  his  fellow-brute,  and  then  tell  us 
what  are  the  circumstances  that  surround  him  at  any 
moment,  and  we  may  predict  the  volition  and  the  act 
as  surely  and  as  invariably  as  we  do  the  fall  of  a  stone, 
or  the  curve  of  a  projectile  discharged  from  a  cannon. 


84  THE    WORLD    OF   MIND. 

179.  Besides,  it  is  alleged  that  any  other  supposi- 
tion, founded  on  the  imagined  independence  of  the 
Mind  in  its  volitions,  is  inconceivable.     Not  so  the  be- 
lief that  a  volition  is  precisely  a  resultant  line ;  that  it 
is  the  product  of  two  forces,  meeting  as  from  different 
directions ;  it  is  a  diagonal,  which  indicates  the  relative 
intensity  of  these  two  forces,  namely,  the  instinct  or 
disposition,  and  the  present  circumstance,  which  is  the 
immediate  inducement.     If  it  be  so,  then  it  is  certain 
that  physical  necessity  rules  the  universe:   the  uni- 
verse is  a  machine,  all  of  one  order. 

180.  Why,  then,  should  we  go  in  search  of  any  oth- 
er doctrine,  if  this  suffices  ?    Are  we  likely  to  find  one 
that  is  more  complete  or  coherent  than  this  ?    Is  it  not 
a  generalization  that  embraces  all  the  phenomena,  and 
that  brings  to  an  end,  or  resolves,  many  perplexing 
questions  ?     So  it  may  seem ;   and  yet  the  question 
returns  upon  every  unsophisticated  mind,  Does  this 
doctrine  indeed  embrace  all  the  phenomena  ?  and  does 
it  consist  with  those  instinctive  convictions  which  are 
anterior  to  reasoning  ?    We  think  not.    To  this  seem- 
ingly philosophic  generalization  we  give  way,  it  is  true, 
for  an  hour,  because  we  do  not  find  ourselves  provided 
with  a  logic  which  can  overthrow  it ;  but  just  as  it  is 
with  the  hypothesis  of  the  non-existence  of  an  exter- 
nal world,  so  with  this :  the  moment  we  go  forth  into 
the  open  air,  we  reject  it  as  a  sophism — we  spurn  it  as 
a  cobweb — "  reason  or  no  reason,  it  is  not  so." 

181.  But  what  is  there  which  we  may  oppose  to  it  ? 
In  the  first  place,  it  must  be  granted  that  this  doctrine 
is  a  precarious  philosophy  ;  for  if,  within  the  vast  range 
— if  in  the  immensity  of  the  world  of  mind  there  should 


METAPHYSICS:  GROUNDS  OF  CERTAINTY.       85 

present  itself  so  much  as  one  fact,  or  let  us  say  one 
class  of  facts,  which  resists  the  endeavor  to  bring  it 
under  the  conditions  of  fixed  physical  causation,  then 
the  theory  must  be  abandoned ;  for  then,  and  in  that 
case,  MIND  must  be  held  to  differ  essentially  from  all 
other  things. 

182.  Newton  held  his  theory  concerning  the  law  of 
gravitation  in  suspense,  and  he  abstained  from  affirm- 
ing it  so  long  as  there  was  room  to  question  what  was 
the  figure  of  the  earth,  whether  oblate  or  prolate,  or  so 
long  as  the  moon's  motion  in  her  orbit  was  not  fully 
determined.     On  similar  grounds  we  ought  to  know 
every  thing  that  belongs  to  the  world  of  Mind,  and  to 
have  acquainted  ourselves  every  where  with  its  illimit- 
able developments — below  us  and  above  us — before 
we  can  warrantably  affirm  that  Mind  and  matter  are 
subjected  to  law  in  the  same  sense. 

183.  We  shall  not  fail,  while  giving  attention  to 
the  development  of  volition  in  the  animal  orders  around 
us,  to  gather  the  belief  (whether  we  are  looking  for  it 
or  not)  that  there  is,  at  the  centre  of  the  animal  or- 
ganization, a  Third  Principle,  to  which  the  organic 
sensations  of  the  outer  world  on  the  one  side,  and  the 
instincts  or  appetites  of  the  animal  on  the  other  side, 
stand  evenly  related.     Animal  action  indicates,  even 
if  it  be  obscurely,  a  third  element,  differing  from  and 
independent  of  the  other  two. 

184.  But  when  we  come  to  contemplate  the  great 
world  of  human  volition,  and  when,  in  an  involuntary 
manner,  we  interpret  the  phenomena  of  this  world  by 
means  of  our  individual  consciousness,  the  persuasion 
comes  in  upon  us  with  irresistible  force,  that  MIND 


86  THE    WORLD    OF   MIND. 

possesses  a  prerogative  as  to  its  volitions  which  dis- 
tinguishes it,  not  in  semblance,  not  so  as  if  it  were  a 
difference  in  degree,  but  utterly  and  essentially,  from 
every  catenation  of  causes  and  effects  in  the  material 
world.  Just  as  we  believe  (with  or  without  the  leave 
of  philosophy)  that  there  is  a  real  and  objective  world, 
in  the  midst  of  which  we  are  placed,  so  do  we  believe 
(if  sophistry  be  not  listened  to)  that  MIND  is  endowed 
with  an  independence,  a  sovereignty,  which  constitutes 
the  very  ground  of  the  distinction  between  itself  and 
the  material  world. 

185.  In  the  region  of  metaphysical  abstractions  we 
find,  not  indeed  direct  evidence,  but  an  indication  of 
what  is  here  assumed  to  be  the  distinctive  prerogative 
of  MIND. 

186.  On  every  track  of  thought  within  this  region, 
the  human  mind  goes  forward,  as  if  the  tendency  to 
do  so  sprung  from  its  own  structure,  toward  UNITY. 
In  analytic  thought  the  process  is  continued  until  an 
element  is  arrived  at  which  admits  of  no  more  analysis. 
In  the  process  of  generalization  the  mind  comes  to  no 
rest,  and  does  not  acquiesce  in  the  result  of  its  labors 
until  the  comprehension  of  many  constituent  principles 
or  of  a  multitude  of  facts  has  brought  them  into  a 
single  point  of  view.     All  phenomena  must  be  reduced 
to  a  radial  adjustment ;  they  must  combine  themselves 
as  related  to  a  centre.     Science  confesses  itself  incom- 
plete until  this  has  been  done. 

187.  As,  in  relation  to  its  processes,  the  human 
mind  thus  goes  on  in  search  of  unity,  so,  as  to  its  own 
consciousness,  does  there  prevail  the  same  tendency 
to  gather  itself  up  and  to  throw  off  whatever  is  not  of 


METAPHYSICS:    GROUNDS   OF   CERTAINTY.          87 

itself — whatever,  for  a  time,  may  have  drawn  it  aside ; 
and  this  tendency  (certainly  it  is  so  in  the  most  vigor- 
ous minds)  takes  effect  not  merely  as  to  impressions 
received  through  the  senses,  but  as  to  its  own  instincts 
— and  its  individual  inclinations — and  its  impulses,  of 
whatever  sort  they  may  be.  MIND  centralizes  itself, 
and  it  is  disquieted  until  it  comes  to  its  rest  in  doing  so. 

188.  It  ought  not  to  be  pretended  that  facts  of  this 
kind  are  conclusive  in  relation  to  the  question  which 
is  now  in  view,  for  it  must  be  granted  that  they  are 
susceptible  of  explanation  on  the  hypothesis  which  we 
incline  to  reject.     But  this  may  be  said,  that  they  con- 
sist much  better  with  the  one  of  these  assumptions 
than  they  do  with  the  other,  as  thus : 

189.  Let  the  instincts,  appetites,  habits  of  the  ani- 
mal— whether  man  or  brute — be  comprehensively  rep- 
resented by  the  letter  A ;  then  the  letter  B  will  stand 
for  the  inducements  or  the  circumstances  which  at  any 
moment  are  the  immediate  occasion  of  a  volition  or 
action,  and  the  letter  C  stands  for  that  volition  or  action. 

190.  Animal  action,  according  to  the  first  hypothesis 
above  stated,  may  thus  be  formulated  :  it  is,  A  x  B  =  C. 
But  in  this  case,  although  C  is  one,  if  it  be  thought  of 
in  its  relation  to  A  and  B,  which  have  concurred  to 
produce  it,  it  is  not  ONE  in  itself,  for  it  is  a  product 
only  ;  nor  does  it  represent,  nor  can  it  be  understood 
to  symbolize,  that  consciousness  of  unity  which  de- 
clares itself  to  be  a  primary  characteristic  of  Mind. 

191.  But  if  we  adopt  hypothetically  the  belief  that 
Mind  is  a  simple  principle,  which  connects  itself  with 
instincts  and  dispositions  accruing  to  it  in  consequence 
of  its  alliance  with  animal  organization,  and,  as  thus 


88  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

furnished,  is  acted  upon  by  circumstances  that  are 
exterior  to  itself,  we  need  not  allow  to  either  of  these 
forces  a  sovereign  influence,  and  we  reserve  for  MIND 
its  essential  unity,  and  with  its  unity  its  sovereignty. 

192.  But  how  might  any  such  hypothesis  as  this 
be  set  forth  in  a  series  of  intelligible  propositions? 
We  do  not  here  ask  how  this  might  be  done ;  but,  in- 
stead, we  find,  among  the  firmest  intuitive  principles 
of  human  nature,  one  instinct  which  so  coalesces  with 
this  hypothesis,  and  which  so  reluctates  to  coalesce 
with  its  rival,  as  may  well  avail  to  abate,  or  entirely 
to  override,  the  merely  logical  perplexity  which  stands 
in  our  way. 

193.  The  MORAL  SENSE  cleaves  to  the  human  mind 
as  an  element  that  is  inseparable  from  it.     The  notions, 
the  emotions,  and  the  various  sentiments  which  float 
around  this  consciousness  of  moral  good  and  evil — all 
these  ingredients  of  human  nature  are  recognized  in 
our  inmost  convictions  as  part  of  ourselves.     The 
moral  sense  may  indeed  have  become  perverted,  or  it 
may  have  been  set  in  a  false  direction,  or  it  may  have 
lost  its  vitality ;  and,  as  is  the  case  with  other  faculties 
(the  abstractive,  for  instance),  it  may  be  blunted,  en- 
feebled, and  apparently  dead ;  but  no  such  exceptive 
instances  avail  at  all  for  bringing  into  doubt  the  reality 
of  this  principal  element  of  human  nature. 

194.  The  idea  of  responsibility  and  the  recognition 
of  law — not  of  physical  law,  which  enforces  and  vin- 
dicates itself,  but  of  law  sanctioned  by  an  authority 
above  us,  and  which  is  to  be  vindicated  at  some  future 
time,  this  idea  and  this  recognition  follow  us  when  we 
would  run  from  them ;  they  meet  us  ever  and  again 


METAPHYSICS:  GROUNDS  OF  CERTAINTY.       89 

on  our  path  when  we  may  Lave  lost  sight  of  them ; 
they  find  us  when  we  ask  not  for  them.  The  moral 
sense  and  the  belief  of  responsibility  demonstrate  their 
reality  especially  in  this  way — that  so  many  elaborate 
sophistries  have  been  resorted  to  for  the  purpose  of 
showing  that  they  are  not  real,  and  that  we  may  safe- 
ly disregard  them.  Human  nature,  we  are  told,  is 
ruled  by,  and  it  is  the  passive  subject  of,  a  system  of 
causation  identical  with  that  which  governs  the  mate- 
rial world. 

195.  Does  the  moral  sense— does  the  recognition 
of  right  and  wrong — do  these  notions  consist  with  a 
doctrine  such  as  that  which  we  have  here  named? 
Let  it  be  granted  that  it  is  possible  to  bring  about  a 
coalescence  between  them.     Every  thing  should  be 
candidly  listened  to  and  freely  admitted  which  has 
been  advanced  by  eminent  writers  in  explanation  of 
the  apparent  incongruity  of  the  two,  the  doctrine  and 
the  moral  instinct. 

196.  But  if  we  still  hesitate  to  profess  ourselves 
convinced  and  satisfied,  if  still  we  are  conscious  of  a 
latent  doubt,  are  there  not  difficulties  attaching  to  any 
other  hypothesis  ? 

197.  Opposed  to  the  belief  of  the  intrinsic  property 
uf  Mind  as  initiative  and  sovereign  in  its  volitions, 
there  stands  the  difficulty  of  giving  it  expression  in 
formal  propositions.     But  this  very  difficulty  may  well 
be  regarded  as  an  indication  of  the  fact  that,  at  this 
point,  we  have  arrived  at  an  ELEMENT.     If,  in  truth, 
its  initiative  power — its  sovereignty — be  of  the  very 
essence  of  Mind,  if  it  be  its  primary  quality,  if  it  be 
that  which  is  its  distinction,  and  which  constitutes  the 


90  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

difference  between  itself  and  matter,  then,  by  conse- 
quence, it  must  stand  beyond  the  circle  of  those  truths 
which  are  capable  of  being  reduced  to  constituent  prop- 
ositions. If  now  at  last  we  have  arrived  at  an  ulti- 
mate fact  in  the  philosophy  of  Mind,  then  certainly 
we  must  not  expect  to  prove  it  to  be  a  truth  by  exhib- 
iting its  dependence  upon  some  principle  that  has  a 
position  higher  up  in  the  nature  of  things. 

198.  But  if  we  assume  this  belief  in  the  same  way 
in  which  we  assume  the  fact  of  our  existence  and  of 
our  continuous  identity,  and  as  we  assume  the  reality 
of  the  external  world  and  the  existence  of  other  minds 
around  us,  then  we  come  into  the  possession  of  a  prin- 
ciple which  gives  ONENESS  to  our  consciousness,  and 
which  imparts  coherence  to  the  several  rudiments  of 
human  nature,  and  therefore  forms  a  ground  of  cer- 
tainty in  the  region  of  abstract  thought. 

199.  In  proportion  as  the  moral  sense  is  keen  and 
the  mind  vigorous  does  the  man  resent  the  solace 
which  the  casuist  may  offer  him  when,  in  any  in- 
stance, he  confesses  himself  to  be  blameworthy.    Rath- 
er would  he  endure  the  full  amount  of  blame  which 
others  may  throw  upon  him,  or  even  more  than  may 
be  his  due,  than  listen  to  the  degrading  doctrine  that 
his  conduct  in  this  case,  though  "  unfortunate  in  its 
issue,"  was  the  inevitable  product  t)f  AXB:  it  was  a 
product  sure  to  realize  itself  in  its  destined  place  in 
the  chain  of  eternal  causation.    A  mind  that  is  already 
vitiated,  or  one  that  is  at  once  subtle  and  feeble,  may 
accept  evasions  of  this  sort,  and  may  persuade  itself 
that,  in  logic,  they  stand  good  ;  but  the  strong  and  the 
firm  never  do   so ;   and  the  warrantable  inference  is 


METAPHYSICS:  GROUNDS  OF  CERTAINTY.        91 

this :  that  no  process  of  reasoning  can  be  admitted  to 
be  sound  which  the  consciousness  of  a  well-condition- 
ed mind  resents  as  at  variance  with  those  persuasions 
which,  if  they  be  abandoned,  the  reasoning  faculty  it- 
self is  broken  up. 

200.  The  sense  of  fitness  and  order  may  be  disturb- 
ed as  well  by  a  redundancy  in  any  organism  as  by  a 
deficiency.     If  there  be  a  wheel  in  a  machine  which 
has  no  duty  to  perform,  or  if  a  wheel  be  wanting  at 
any  point  on  the  pathway  of  motion,  we  disallow  the 
unity  of  the  whole. 

201.  Let  us,  for  instance,  imagine  that  the  chro- 
nometer— complete  in  its  parts  and  adjustments,  and 
faultless  in  its  performance — had  come  to  be  endowed 
with  a  reflective  consciousness;  that  it  knows  what  it 
is  doing,  and  knows  whether  it  is  right  with  the  stars 
or  not — in  this  case  there  i.i  a  faculty  which  has  no 
function  ;  there  is  a  redundant  element ;  for  the  mind 
present  in  this  time-piece  can  have  no  more  occupation 
than  there  would  be  for  a  mind  in  a  hammer,  or  a 
broom,  or  a  saw. 

202.  It  has  been  fancied  that  flowers,  shrubs,  trees, 
are  endowed  with  consciousness ;  and  how  shall  we 
assure  ourselves  that  it  is  not  so  ?     But  here  again, 
and  on  that  supposition,  the  mind  of  the  rose  and  lily, 
of  the  willow  or  the  oak,  has  no  office,  or  none  that  in- 
dicates itself  in  any  result.     As  to  the  life  and  welfare 
of  the  plant,  this  imputed  mind  contributes  nothing. 

203.  Or  we  may  imagine  the  carnivorous  species  to 
be  gifted  with  moral  sensibilities — with  compassion, 
pity,  and  a  horror  at  bloodshed,  so  that  it  is  always 
with  extreme  reluctance  that  the  tiger  catches  and 


92  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

kills  the  deer.     Such  a  sensitiveness  would  certainly 
be  a  redundant  endowment,  and  better  withheld. 

204.  No  such  instances  of  superfluous  endowments 
or  of  sinecure  faculties  present  themselves  in  nature. 
Every  organism  is  complete  for  its  own  purposes,  and 
complete  in  its  relation  to  the  system  of  which  it  is  a 
part,  but  it  is  not  more  than  complete. 

205.  Yet  among  our  instinctive  convictions  none 
is  more  absolute  or  more  persistent  than  that  of  the 
moral  sense.     We  feel  as  if  human  nature,  in  respect 
of  moral  distinctions,  differed  essentially  from  all  other 
natures  with  which  it  might  come  into  comparison. 
We  feel  as  ^/"MIND  in  man  were  endowed  with  a  POW- 
ER toward  good  and  evil  which  gives  coherence  to  its 
consciousness,  and  which  brings  its  faculties  into  uni- 
son— a  power  which  so  centralizes  them  as  that  we 
recognize  fitness  and  order  on  this  ground,  as  else- 
where, throughout  nature. 

206.  Hitherto  none  of  those  theories  by  the  aid  of 
which  it  has  been  endeavored  to  reconcile  the  doctrine 
of  universal  physical  causation  with  the  instincts  of 
our  moral  consciousness  and  with  the  doctrine  of  re- 
sponsibility have  commanded  any  thing  more  than  a 
sort  of  comfortless  assent.     Never  have  they  been  free- 
ly accepted  elsewhere  than  in  the  class-room  or  the 
study.     Like  other  elaborate  subtleties,  they  vanish 
as  mists  under  broad  daylight.     It  is  so  because  they 
imply  that  nature  has  furnished  man  with  a  faculty  to 
which  no  function  is  assigned. 

207.  These  theories  fail  of  their  purpose  not  merely 
because  they  are  subtle,  but  because  they  stop  short 
at  the  very  point  where  the  order  of  thought  demands 


METAPHYSICS:  GROUNDS  OF  CERTAINTY.       93 

that  another  step  should  be  taken.  This  further  step 
leads  onward  toward  that  ONE  TRUTH  which,  to  the  hu- 
man mind,  must  be  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  in- 
tellectual steadfastness  or  rational  assurance.  If  this 
ONE  TRUTH  be  left  out  of  our  philosophy,  or  if  it  be 
rejected,  then  (and  it  is  a  matter  of  fact  abundantly 
confirmed  in  the  history  of  speculative  science)  nothing 
is  outspread  in  our  view  but  a  pathless  course  over  a 
dark  expanse. 

208.  An  elementary  book  such  as  this  could  not  be 
supposed  to  embrace  a  religious  argument,  nor  is  it 
within  the  writer's  purpose  to  furnish  reasons  availa- 
ble on  the  side  of  theology ;  but  yet,  wherever  the 
course  of  thought  ought  to  carry  us,  there  we  must  go 
on,  whether  we  are  individually  mindful  of  religion 
or  not. 

209.  By  following  the  course  of  thought,  I  mean 
this — that,  as  often  as  any  abstract  notion  indicates 
some  other  notion  in  advance  of  itself,  we  should  go 
in  quest  of  it.     "  On  to  the  end"  is  the  law  of  thought 
when  we  profess  to  be  thinking  coherently.     But  the 
end,  in  any  case,  is  that  notion  or  principle  which  gives 
no  notice  of  another  beyond  it  which  might  lie  within 
range  of  the  human  faculties. 

210.  The  moral  sense — the  feeling  of  right  and 
wrong — the  judgments  we  form  concerning  disposi- 
tions or  actions,  that  they  are  praiseworthy  or  blame- 
worthy— these  elements  of  human  nature  are,  as  we 
have  said,  among  the  firmest  of  its  constituents,  and 
they  often  give  proof  of  their  reality  with  an  energy 
that  is  peculiarly  intense. 

211.  But  now  the  moral  sense  indicates  that  which 


94  THE    WORLD   OF   MIND. 

is  above  itself  and  beyond  itself ;  therefore,  if  it  be  our 
rule  to  follow  always  the  course  of  thought,  we  must 
now  go  forward  at  this  suggestion,  and  it  leads  us  di- 
rectly to  the  conception,  however  vague,  of  AN  AUTHOR- 
ITY to  which  we  are  related.  This  conception,  under 
all  imaginable  distortions,  has  accompanied  human  na- 
ture— invariably  it  is  the  instinctive  belief  of  man. 

212.  The  idea  of  an  authority  beyond  and  above  us 
conjoins  itself  with  the  conception  of  a  POWER,  and  of 
a  purpose  too,  to  vindicate  itself,  whether  immediately 
or  at  some  time  future.     It  is  this  set  of  notions  which 
gives  coherence  to  the  moral  sense.     Without  them 
no  aspect  of  fitness  presents  itself  on  this  side  of  hu- 
man nature. 

213.  The  idea  of  AUTHORITY,  or  of  a  relationship 
between  two  beings,  each  endowed  with  intelligence 
and  moral  feeling,  supposes  that  the  will  of  the  one 
who  is  the  more  powerful  of  the  two  has  been  in  some 
way  declared.     It  also  demands  an  independence  of 
some  kind  in  the  other  nature  intervening  between  the 
one  will  and  the  other  will.     Where  the  relationship 
of  law,  not  as  a  physical  principle,  but  as  a  rule  and 
motive,  is  brought  in,  then  there  we  must  find  a  break, 
an  interval,  and  a  reciprocal  counteraction. 

214.  A  scheme  of  government  taking  its  bearing 
upon  the  moral  sense  is  not  a  chain  along  which  se- 
quences follow  in  a  constant  order,  but  it  is  a  standing 
on  one  side  and  a  standing  on  the  other  side,  with  a 
clear  distance  interposed.     If  we  take  fewer  elements 
than  these  as  the  ground  of  moral  government,  the  en- 
tire vocabulary  of  morals,  popular  and  scientific,  loses 
its  significance. 


METAPHYSICS:  GROUNDS  OF  CERTAINTY.       95 

215.  In  the  material  world  law  is  latent,  and  it 
makes  itself  known  in  the  effect  only  ;  but  in  the  mor- 
al world,  while  there  is  also  a  law  that  is  latent,  there 
is  a  law  that  is  declaratory,  and  which  (in  whatever 
manner)  must  proclaim  itself  anteriorly  to  the  effect, 
and  irrespectively  of  it. 

216.  On  this  ground,  then,  the  course  of  thought 
leads  us  to  postulate  for  MIND  an  independence  which 
is  peculiar  to  itself,  and  without  which  the  moral  sense 
would  be  a  faculty  without  a  function. 

217.  From  this  point  we  must  advance  to  the  be- 
lief of  an  INDEPENDENT  POWER  superior  to  ourselves, 
and  to  which  we  stand  related.     At  the  moment  when 
we  reach  this  point,  and  when  we  bring  our  concep- 
tions of  fitness  and  order  to  a  centre  upon  that  ONE 
TRUTH  which  is  the  basis  of  abstract  theology,  it  is 
then,  and  never,  if  not  thus,  that  the  human  Mind  at- 
tains to  an  assured  intellectual  resting-place. 

218.  We  sum  up  what  has  been  advanced  in  rela- 
tion to  metaphysical  speculation  in  this  way : 

219.  Analytic  thought  or  pure  abstraction,  pursued 
to  its  rudiments,  can  never  yield  an  assurance  of  truth. 

220.  Assurance  of  truth  must  be  the  product  of  con- 
cretive  or  synthetic  thought  when  it  issues  in  bringing 
before  us  a  system  of  fitness  and  order. 

221.  A  system  of  government  has  no  completeness 
or  reason — it  exhibits  no  fitness  or  order,  until  we  rec- 
ognize its  source  in  the  SOVEREIGN  RECTITUDE — the 

DIVINE    PERSONAL   WISDOM    and   GOODNESS.       On   this 

path  metaphysical  speculation  leads  to  certainty;  on 
no  other  path  has  it  ever  done  so. 


96  THE   WORLD  OF   MIND. 


VIII. 

SCIENCE  OF  MIND— PHYSICAL. 

THE   BOUNDARY    BETWEEN   ANIMAL    PHYSIOLOGY    AND 
THE   SCIENCE   OF  MIND. 

222.  WITH  the  world  of  Mind  before  us  as  our 
subject,  nothing  is  more  important  than  to  ascertain, 
and  to  do  so  in  the  clearest  manner,  the  ground  of 
that  distinction  which  we  assume  to  be  real  between 
what  belongs  to  Animal  Physiology  and  that  which  is 
proper  to  Mental  Philosophy.     A  misapprehension  on 
this  ground  brings  with  it  a  train  of  errors,  and  leads 
the  way  toward  fruitless  speculations. 

223.  In  the  preceding  sections  it  has  been  attempt- 
ed to  set  off  from  our  general  subject  the  results  of  the 
abstractive  faculty  over  which  the  mind  has,  or  may 
have,  an  entire  control,  being,  as  they  are,  its  own  prod- 
ucts.    The  region   of  metaphysical  speculation  may 
thus  be  so  fenced  about  as  that  there  shall  be  no  in- 
terference on  this  side  with  what  is  properly  physical 
in  Mental  Philosophy.* 

224.  But  the  partition  which  we  have  now  before 
us  is  of  a  kind  that  is  not  so  easily  effected.     At  our 

*  The  term  Physical  Science  is  here  and  elsewhere  employed  in 
its  more  usual  and  restricted  sense  as  relating  to  the  phenomena 
and  laws  of  the  material  world.  But  in  this  book  it  is  also  employed 
in  its  more  extended  sense,  as  embracing  Mental  Science ;  and,  as 
thus  used,  Physical  Mental  Philosophy  is  opposed  to  that  which  is 
Metaphysical. 


PHYSIOLOGY   AND   MENTAL   SCIENCE.  97 

starting  it  was  said  that  we  have  no  direct  knowledge 
of  Mind  otherwise  than  as  it  is  conjoined  with  animal 
organization.  The  mode  or  the  medium  of  this  com- 
bination is  utterly  unknown,  and  (we  must  think  so) 
it  is  quite  inscrutable.  This-  is  certain,  however,  that 
the  reciprocal  influences  of  the  animal  organization, 
and  of  the  Mind  lodged  therein,  are  most  intimate  and 
constant,  so  that  we  are  seldom  able  to  take  up  any 
set  of  phenomena  or  any  class  of  facts  as  belonging  to 
either  mind  or  body  with  a  perfect  certainty  that  they 
are  wholly  exempt  from  influences  derived  from  the 
other. 

225.  Or  the  ground  of  perplexity  may  be  thus 
stated :  While  there  is  much  in  the  animal  organiza- 
tion and  its  functions  which  we  may  believe  to  be 
only  remotely,  if  at  all,  affected  by  MIND,  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  while  there  is  much  in  the  operations  of 
MIND  which  can  be  only  remotely,  if  at  all,  affected  by 
the  animal  functions,  there  is  still  more,  on  both  sides, 
in  relation  to  which  an  intimate  interaction  of  the  two 
is  a  fact  unquestionable.     Nevertheless,  a  rule  must 
be  found  which  shall  enable  us  to  deal  with  ambigu- 
ous instances  of  this  sort  in  such  a  way  as  may  keep 
us  exempt  from  confusion  and  error.     This  rule  is, 
therefore,  now  to  be  sought  for,  and  it  is  such  as  n  - 
solves  itself  into  two  or  three  postulates,  as  thus : 

226.  (a)  A  professedly  scientific  generalization,  if  it 
be  brought  forward  for  the  purpose  of  throwing  light 
upon  any  phenomena  that  may  be  in  question,  must 
show  that  it  has  an  INTELLIGIBLE  CONGRUITY  with  the 
subject  to  which  it  is  applied. 

227.  (b)  When  facts  or  phenomena  of  any  kind  ap- 

E 


98  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

pear  to  combine  influences,  affinities,  forces,  of  differ- 
ent kinds — as,  for  instance,  some  that  are  mechanical 
and  some  that  are  chemical — the  methods  of  reasoning 
proper  to  each  of  these  principles  must  be  carried  out 
only  to  the  extent  within  which  they  are  unquestion- 
ably applicable  thereto,  and  not  a  step  further. 

228.  (c)  That  partition  of  subjects  which  we  should 
endeavor  to  establish  in  relation  to  animal  organiza- 
tion and  MIND  is  not  of  the  nature  of  a  prohibition, 
which  is  set  up  on  the  one  side  for  the  purpose  of  lim- 
iting the  advances  of  inquiry  on  the  other  side,  but  its 
intention  is  this :  to  maintain  the  distinction  between 
the  two — a  distinction  admitted  to  be  founded  upon 
the  nature  of  things,  and  to  forget  which  is  to  fall  into 
error. 

229.  Two  or  three  instances  will  suffice  for  showing 
that  this  rule,  as  thus  set  forth,  is  reasonable,  and  that 
it  is  in  accordance  with  the  established  usages  of  mod- 
ern science. 

230.  The  first  of  these  postulates  (a)  has  been  dis- 
regarded in  innumerable  instances.    Every  department 
of  science  (science  it  was  not)  had  been  vitiated  by  the 
neglect  of  it  in  the  times  anterior  to  the  rise  of  our 
modern  philosophy.     The  anatomist  and  the  physiol- 
ogist, believing  that  they  could  explain  the  functions 
of  animal  life  on  the  principles  of  mechanics,  talked 
of  the  weight  and  pressure  of  fluids,  and  of  the  elastic 
forces  of  the  "animal  spirits  ;"  and  especially  by  the 
help  of  "vibrations,"  of  which  the  pulpy  substances 
of  the  body  were  affirmed  to  be  susceptible,  it  was 
supposed  that  sensation  and  volition  were  rendered 
intelligible ;  for  if  only  we  will  admit  the  hypothesis 


PHYSIOLOGY   AND   MENTAL   SCIENCE.  99 

that  the  brain  is  much  like  a  harp  or  a  piano-forte, 
then  the  mystery  of  the  Mind's  relationship  to  matter 
is  cleared  up. 

231.  There  must  be,  as  we  say,  a  congruity  between 
a  theory  and  the  facts  of  which  it  is  intended  to  give 
an  explanation,  as  thus :  we  look  to  the  mechanical 
structure  of  the  compass — the  suspended  needle,  the 
box  inclosing  it,  and  the  graduated  and  lettered  circle 
over  which  this  needle  oscillates.     The  mechanism  is 
simple  and  intelligible.     But  when  we  find  that  this 
slender  wire,  whenever  its  rest  may  be  disturbed,  still 
reverts,  with  a  tremulous  constancy,  to  its  first  posi- 
tion as  related  to  the  horizon,  then  there  comes  before 
us  a  fact,  or  a  class  of  facts,  of  which  the  mechanical 
structure  of  the  apparatus  offers  no  sort  of  solution. 
Let  mechanical  principles  be  applied  to  this  phenome- 
non with  all  imaginable  ingenuity,  they  utterly  fail  to 
yield  us  the  smallest  aid.     We  must  seek  it  from  some 
other  quarter ;   and  although,  even  in  its   advanced 
state,  magnetic  science  is  far  from  standing  clear  of 
mysteries,  yet  it  does  avail  to  connect  the  polarity  of 
the  needle  with  a  mass  of  phenomena  elsewhere  ob- 
servable, so  that,  in  a  sense,  or  to  a  certain  extent,  this 
constant  tendency  may  be  said  to  be  understood.     At 
the  least,  we  are  effectively  diverted  from  the  futile 
endeavor  to  explain  it  on  mechanical  principles. 

232.  But  now  let  us   imagine  that  the  magnetic 
needle  should  exhibit  a  sensibility  to  music ;  that  it 
becomes  tremulous  at  the  swell  of  the  organ ;  and  that, 
at  the  sound  of  the  human  voice,  it  oscillates  rhyth- 
mically;  that  it  moves  from  N.W.  by  N.  to  N.E.  by 
N.  consonantly  with  the  hand  of  one  who  is  beating 


100  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

time  in  a  concert.  This  would  be  a  fact  quite  of 
another  order ;  and  we  must  seek  an  explication  of  it 
elsewhere  than  within  the  range  either  of  mechanical 
or  of  magnetic  influences. 

233.  One  further  step  we  may  take  in  this  illustra- 
tion.     Let  it  be  that  the  needle  should  indicate  its 
consciousness  of  a  conversation  that  is  going  on  near 
to  where  it  stands.    When  certain  subjects  are  brought 
forward,  it  becomes  agitated ;  it  dips  and  rises,  as  if 
nodding  assent ;  or  it  performs  gyrations — stops  at  a 
moment,  and  starts  again,  as  the  argument  is  resumed. 
In  this  imaginable  case  we  are  thrown  upon  a  new 
path,  for  there  is  presented  to  our  view  a  class  of  phe- 
nomena that  has  no  intelligible  congruity  with  those 
of  which  physical  science  takes  account.     It  would  be 
a  futile  endeavor  to  resolve  such  facts  into  chemical, 
or  electrical,  or  magnetic  influences. 

234.  In  any  such  instance,  if  we  were  asked  to  lis- 
ten to  explanations  of  this  kind,  we  should  turn  from 
them,  not  merely  because  we  might  think  them  untrue 
or  insufficient,  but  because  they  are  unintelligible.    To 
the  propositions  conveying  any  such  pretended  expla- 
nation we  could  attach  no  meaning. 

235.  Pretended  and  yet  fruitless  explanations  of 
facts  belonging  to  the  world  of  Mind  have  very  often 
been  advanced,  and  they  have  been  maintained  and 
defended  with  equal  zeal  and  ingenuity.     But  what  is 
the  aid  which  they  afford  in  the  interpretation  of  such 
facts  ?     None  whatever ;  for  the  terms  in  which  they 
are  expressed,  though  intelligible  in  relation  to  the 
world  of  matter,  retain  no  shadow  of  meaning  when 
they  are  carried  across  to  the  world  of  Mind. 


PHYSIOLOGY   AND   MENTAL   SCIENCE.  101 

236.  A  galvanic  current  indicates  itself  through  a 
thousand  miles  ot  wire,  or  it  excites  anew  the  muscu- 
lar irritability  of  an  animal  recently  dead.     I  do  not 
know  how  it  is  that  the  action  of  a  diluted  acid  upon 
a  pair  of  metallic  plates  should  produce  these  and 
other  effects,  but  yet  they  are  facts  that  associate 
themselves  intelligibly  with  many  others,  and  they  are 
congruous  with  the  phenomena  of  the  material  world : 
they  come  into  their  places  in  those  sciences  which 
have  to  do  with  tilings  that  are  visible,  palpable,  odor- 
ous, sapid,  sonorous. 

237.  And  thus  also  the  marvels  of  Photography 
range  themselves  with  the  known  principles  of  chemi- 
cal science.     What  may  be  the  inner  nature  of  the 
actinic  ray  is,  as  well  as  all  other  "inner  natures," 
wholly  unknown ;  but  Chemistry,  in  clearing  up,  so 
far  as  it  can,  the  mystery  of  the  sun-picture,  speaks 
its  own  language — goes  to  work  in  its  own  way;  and 
it  finds  itself  already  acquainted  with  analogous  facts 
nearly  resembling  these  new  phenomena. 

238.  But  now  the  sight  of  pain  or  want  excites 
pity,  and  this  feeling  leads  me  to  make  self-denying 
efforts  for  its  relief.     A  geometric  figure  placed  before 
me  suggests   the  truth  which  it  symbolizes,  and  it 
prompts  a  train  of  thought,  in  the  course  of  which  the 
mode  ot  demonstrating  that  truth  becomes  evident. 
In  attempting  to  give  the  philosophy  of  any  mental 
condition  or  intellectual  process  such  as  these,  I  do 
not  advance  a  step  by  talking  of  chemical  affinities,  or 
ot  the  definite  proportions  ot  atoms,  or  of  galvanic  en- 
ergies, or  ot  medullary  vibrations,  or  of  nervous  ten- 
sions.    All  this  show  of  philosophy  is  pure  illusion. 


102  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

No  mind  that  is  capable  of  consistent  thought  can 
bring  the  forms  and  phrases  of  physical  science  into 
relationship  with  the  processes  or  the  varying  condi- 
tions of  the  Mind. 

239.  Mind  and  matter,  however  intimately  com- 
bined they  may  be,  are  TWO  natures,  not  one.     Until 
we  assume  this  principle  as  our  basis,  the  sciences 
which  bear  upon  the  two,  severally,  are  found  to  viti- 
ate each  other.     THE  WORLD  OF  MIND  challenges  for 
itself  a  mode  of  treatment  proper  to  itself,  and  with 
which  the  philosophy  of  animal  organization  may  in- 
termix itself  only  so  far  as  its  language  may  be  inter- 
pre table  in  its  own  lower  sphere. 

240.  The  world  of  Mind,  in  behalf  of  which  this 
challenge  is  made,  comprehends,  as  we  have  said,  all 
orders  of  beings  that  indicate  powers  of  perception  and 
a  centralized  consciousness,  and  that  are  locomotive 
from  within;   in  a  word,  all  that  have  been  put  in 
trust  of  their  individual  welfare. 

241.  The  terms  and  phrases  by  means  of  which  we 
may  convey  our  notion  of  Mind  as  lodged  in  the  an- 
imal organization   may  be  varied  indefinitely.      The 
wording  of  such  a  notion  is  not  a  matter  of  great  im- 
portance, for  at  the  best  it  can  only  be  an  approxima- 
tion toward  precision ;  it  can  be  no  more  where  the 
things  spoken  of  are  indeterminately  known ;  and  it 
is  better  not  to  affect  a  fixed  phraseology  which  as- 
sumes to  know  what  we  do  not  know. 

242.  In  whatever  terms  we  give  expression  to  such 
ideas  as  we  may  form  of  MIND  corporeally  lodged,  the 
elementary  idea  so  conveyed  is  that  of  two  related  na- 
tures, the  properties  of  which  are,  in  the  most  absolute 


PHYSIOLOGY  AND   MENTAL   SCIENCE.  103 

manner,  opposed,  the  one  set  to  the  other  set.  What- 
ever is  distinctive  of  the  one  nature  is  therefore  to  be 
denied  of  the  other.  Whatever  is  in  the  one  nature 
is  not  in  the  other. 

243.  Consciousness  of  the  properties  of  matter  is 
the  prerogative  of  MIND.    Matter  (as  we  now  assume) 
has  no  such  sensibility.     Initiative  power  is  the  pre- 
rogative of  MIND.    Matter  is  endued  with  no  initiative 
power — it  does  not  put  itself  in  motion.     Mind  is  not 
solid,  or  fluid,  or  gaseous ;  nor  has  it  contour,  or  out- 
line ;  nor  is  it  blue,  or  red,  or  white,  or  black ;  it  is 
not  sweet  or  bitter ;  it  has  not  any  of  these  properties, 
because  it  has  consciousness  of  them  as  the  properties 
of  matter ;  it  knows  them  because  they  are  not  of 
itself. 

244.  If  what  we  here  assume  be  true,  then  it  will 
necessarily  follow  that  Mind  and  matter  must  each 
have  its  philosophy  to  itself.     The  modes  of  reason- 
ing proper  to  the  one  can  only  be  delusive  if  carried 
over  to  the  other.     That  this  is  the  fact  might  very 
safely  be  inferred  from  what  hitherto  has  been  the  is- 
sue, without  an  exception,  of  the  many  ingenious  the- 
ories propounded,  with  the  intention  of  laying  open  the 
world  of  Mind  by  the  help  of  chemistry,  or  any  of 
those  sciences  that  are  properly  called  Physical.   Every 
theory  resting  upon  this  basis  has  presently  gone  off 
into  some  quackery,  noised  for  a  while  among  the  un- 
educated, and  soon  forgotten. 


104  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 


DL 

BREADTH   OF  THE  WORLD   OF  MIND. 

245.  THE  one  expression  already  employed  (240) 
as  distinctive  of  the  community  of  Mind  is  sufficiently 
precise  to  serve  our  immediate  purpose.     This  com- 
monwealth includes,  we  say,  all  those  orders  of  beings 
that  are  endowed  with  sensibilities  and  with  powers 
fitting  them  to  be  put  in  trust,  individually,  of  their 
own  well-being. 

246.  So  much  as  this  can  not  be  affirmed  of  any 
species  usually  included  in  the  vegetable  kingdom. 
The  individual  plant  is,  indeed,  well  cared  for  in  the 
constitution  of  the  world  around  it ;  but  if,  in  any  in- 
stance, its  well-being  comes  to  be  out  of  accordance 
with  that  constitution,  it  perishes  without  help;  if 
light,  warmth,  moisture,  or  certain  elements  in  the  soil 
fail  it  where  it  stands,  the  plant  dies. 

247.  The  animal  finds  itself  existing  from  hour  to 
hour,  as  we  might  say,  precariously ;  for  it  lives  al- 
ways on  that  border  where  its  welfare  is  every  mo- 
ment tending  to  get  out  of  accordance  with  the  consti- 
tution of  the  outer  world,  and  where  it  will  speedily 
perish  unless  rescued  by  an  exercise  of  its  faculties. 
By  its  own  efforts  it  must  bring  itself  again  into  due 
relationship  therewith ;  if  it  should  fail  to  care  for  it- 
self (in  so  far  as  its  structure  implies  that  it  should  do 
so),  the  elements  will  not  care  for  it ;  nor  will  its  own, 
nor  other  species,  care  for  it.    Death  is  the  penalty  of 


BREADTH    OF   THE   WORLD    OF   MIND.  105 

the  remissness  or  of  the  helplessness  of  the  individual 
animal. 

248.  This  condition  of  trusteeship  for  the  individu- 
al life  implies,  by  necessity,  the  possession  of  faculties 
of  perception  toward  the  outer  world,  and  a  conscious- 
ness of  organic  pain  and  pleasure,  and  the  power  and 
the  means  of  locomotion ;  and  with  these,  a  prehensile 
mechanical  structure.     These  conditions  again  imply 
sensorial  centralization,  or  a  ONE  CONSCIOUSNESS  more 
or  less  reflective.     This  one  consciousness  is  MIND  ; 
or  we  may  prefer  to  speak  of  it  as  the  product  of  Mind. 

249.  When,  in  terms  so  comprehensive  as  these,  we 
open  a  way  into  the  great  theatre  of  life — conscious 
life — we  enter  what  must  bo  to  us  a  scene  infinitely 
extended.     How  vast  are  the  dimensions  of  this  stage 
of  intelligence — tlu's  consciousness  of  enjoyment  and 
of  suffering ! 

250.  But  it  is  likely  that,  upon  the  very  threshold 
of  this  theatre,  exception  may  be  taken,  and  some  may 
even  resent  the  invitation  to  enter  precincts  within 
which  the  dignity  and  high  prerogatives  of  human  na- 
ture seem  to  be  compromised  or  to  be  brought  into 
jeopardy.     A  feeling  of  this  sort  will,  however,  give 
way,  after  a  little  reflection,  to  feelings  quite  of  an  op- 
posite kind. 

251.  An  undefined  repugnance  to  consort  ourselves 
with  the  countless  animal  orders  around  us,  and  to 
think  of  them  as  our  fellows,  and  to  regard  the  her- 
bivora  and  the  carnivora — the  mammals,  and  the  mol- 
lusks,  and  the  infusoria,  as  tenants  in  common  of  the 
planet,  leaves  us  liable  to  be  scandalized  at  every  turn 
by  palpable  instances  of  the  fact  of  this  fellowship. 

E2 


106  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

But  if  we  bring  ourselves  to  look  well  to  the  grounds 
of  the  alleged  agreement,  and  then  acquaint  ourselves 
with  the  reasons  of  the  difference,  and  if  we  under- 
stand the  boundless  extent  of  that  difference,  we  shall 
exempt  ourselves  ever  afterward  from  all  disagreeable 
revulsions  of  feeling  such  as  we  now  suppose. 

252.  In  fact,  much  of  that  which  is  to  invite  atten- 
tion in  this  elementary  book  will  consist  of  an  exhibi- 
tion, first,  of  what  is  common  to  all  orders  of  living 
beings,  and  then  a  setting  forth  of  what  is  peculiar  to 
the  human  mind,  and  which  is  the  ground  of  its  im- 
measurable superiority. 

253.  Our  modern  science,  with  its  explorative  in- 
struments, brings  us  into  position  for  looking  around 
us  through  space  and  time  in  a  manner  which  was  not 
possible  to  our  predecessors.     We  know  more  of  the 
world  of  life  than  was  known  or  than  was  at  all  sur- 
mised by  philosophers  only  three  centuries  ago — more 
in  the  proportion  of  many  millions  to  one.     This  far- 
extended  prospect  can  not  but  affect  the  feelings  with 
which  we  regard  the  constitution  of  the  animated  world ; 
and  it  must  bear  also  upon  the  conclusions,  moral  and 
theological,  which  may  warrantably  be  drawn  from  the 
fields  of  natural  history. 

254.  The  philosophic  and  the  contemplative  minds 
of  former  times  might  almost  be  envied  some  of  the 
prerogatives  of  their  ignorance  as  to  the  relative  posi- 
tion of  man  on  earth.     Man — his  energies,  his  desti- 
nies, the  range  of  his  reason,  and  the  intensity  of  his 
tastes — his  relish  of  the  beautiful — these  things  were, 
to  such  minds,  the  world — the  universe.     As  to  the 
orders  around  them,  "  the  fishes  of  the  sea,"  they  were 


BREADTH   OF   THE   WORLD   OF   MIND.  107 

the  servants  of  man — some  of  them ;  they  were  his 
aliment — some  of  them ;  or  they  were  the  decorations 
of  his  world ;  they  were  the  things  that  are  moving  or 
at  rest  upon  the  foreground  of  lordly  human  existence, 
or  they  were  the  objects  that  fill  the  spaces  in  its  back- 
ground. Man  was  the  only  being  of  whom  much  ac- 
count should  be  taken. 

255.  But  it  is  no  longer  possible  to  us  at  this  pres- 
ent time,  or  it  is  a  possibility  confined  to  the  senti- 
mental and  the  poetical,  to  look  around,  in  any  such 
mood  as  this,  upon  the  great  world  of  life.     Upon  the 
broad  platform  of  conscious  existence  the  aristocracy 
of  mind  is  overborne  by  the  democracy :  in  the  eccle- 
sia  of  all  that  live,  man  finds  himself  outvoted  millions 
to  one. 

256.  It  is  after  a  recollection  of  himself — it  is  upon 
the  ground  of  a  new  estimate  of  his  powers,  that  man 
regains  his  position,  and  that  he  challenges  anew  a 
supremacy  which  shall  never  again  be  called  in  ques- 
tion.    The  ancient  belief  of  the  dignity  of  man  as 
master  of  the  world  was  not  wrong  in  substance,  but 
it  had  been  formed  in  ignorance  of  the  facts.     The 
facts,  as  they  are  brought  before  us  in  our  modern  sci- 
ence, have  this  meaning — they  confirm  this  estimate 
in  its  substance,  and  they  give  it  also  a  vastness  of 
meaning  that  is  incalculably  extended. 

257.  Modern  science  has  brought  us  into  acquaint- 
ance with  the  animated  world  in  two  modes  that  are 
independent  of  each  other :  the  first  of  these  is  that 
afforded  by  the  revelations   of  the  microscope.     We 
should  keep  far  within  the  limits  of  truth  in  affirming 
that  this  instrument  gives  us  the  knowledge  of  living 


108  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

creatures — a  million  for  every  one  that  may  be  known 
to  the  naked  eye,  and  that  was  actually  known  to  the 
naturalists  of  antiquity.  The  conjecture  might  be 
hazarded  that  the  animals  of  all  orders  known  to  the 
fathers  of  ancient  philosophy  as  the  tenants  of  earth; 
air,  and  water,  may  be  outnumbered  by  those  which 
the  microscope  shows  to  be  enjoying  existence  in  a 
gill  of  water  from  a  stagnant  pond. 

258.  Very  many  of  the   species  that  are  compre- 
hended in  this  modern  revelation  are  found  to  be  pos- 
sessed of  a  high  organization,  and  there  are  but  a  few 
concerning  which  we  should  be  in  doubt  as  to  their 
right  to  claim  a  place  among  those  that  are  "  put  in 
trust  of  their  individual  welfare."     Sensation,  percep- 
tion, a  central  consciousness,  and,  pre-eminently,  the 
powers  of  locomotion,  are  seen  to  belong  to  beings  of 
whom   as  many  as  there  were  men  in  the  army  of 
Xerxes  might  be  marshaled  in  open  order  upon  a 
sixpence ! 

259.  The  vastness  of  that  theatre  of  conscious  life 
which  the  microscope  opens  to  our  view  might  be  sym- 
bolized in  various  ways,  as  thus  :  We  take  the  Earth, 
with  its  inhabitants,  as  known  to  antiquity — the  beasts 
of  the  field,  the  fowls  of  heaven,  the  creeping  things, 
and  the  fishes  innumerable ;  a  multitude,  indeed,  be- 
yond computation !     But  now  we  transport  ourselves 
to  the  Sun,  and  we  wander  over  those  resplendent 
plains  upon  which  no  shadow  falls.     These  fields  of 
light,  like  the  dim  surface  of  the  earth,  we  may  sup- 
pose to  be  thickly  peopled  with  the  living — land,  and 
water,  and  air  are  all  tenanted  ;  but  the  proportion  of 
the  area  of  the  sun  to  that  of  the  earth  does  not  exag- 


BREADTH   OF   THE   WORLD   OF   MIND.  109 

geratc  the  numerical  difference  between  the  animal 
population  known  to  antiquity,  and  that  which  is  made 
known  to  ourselves  by  the  microscope. 

260.  The  second  of  these  revelations  above  referred 
to  is  that  which  the  modern  Geology  has  brought  for- 
ward.    This  planetary  theatre  of  conscious  existence, 
vast  as  it  is,  we  should  learn  to  think  ofjirst  as  the 
creation  of  to-day ;  or  let  us  take  what  might  be  the 
average  lifetime  of  all  species,  some   spending  their 
entire  inheritance  of  good  in  the  mid-hours  of  a  single 
summer's  day ;  some — it  is  the  few — are  Nature's  an- 
nuitants through  a  century.     But  the  average  lon- 
gevity of  all  animated  orders  would  probably  be  found 
to  come  within  the  compass  of  a  summer ;  or,  if  the 
overwhelming  numbers  of  the  short-lived  are  duly  con- 
sul red,  the  conjecture  may  be  admitted  that  animal 
life  runs  through  its  course,  completes  its  individual 
destiny,  and  is  replaced  by  its  successors  several  times 
in  the  circuit  of  each  year.     As  to  marine  insects,  it 
need  not  be  supposed  that  their  season  of  life  is  de- 
pendent upon  the  alternation  of  summer  and  winter ; 
and  as  to  the  terrestrial  orders  of  the  temperate  zones, 
Earth  has  its  months  of  life  on  each  side  of  its  equator, 
and  within  the  tropics  there  is  no  cessation. 

261.  But  throughout  what  cycles  of  time  is  it  that 
this  planet  has  thus  continued  to  renew,  from  year  to 
year,  its  tenantry  ?     No  answer  can  be  given  to  such 
a  question  ;  and  yet,  unless  our  modern  Geology  has 
altogether  failed  to  interpret  its  data,  it  is  true  that 
years,  beyond  all  power  of  computation,  have  run  on, 
giving  life  to  new  ranks  of  beings,  and  these  in  each 
class  innumerable. 


110  THE   WO  ELD   OF   MIND.  ^ 

262.  Unless,  therefore,  our  modern  Geology  has 
altogether  misread  the  book,  the  leaves  of  which  it 
has  so  lately  opened,  it  is  certain  that,  through  a  lapse 
of  ages  in  comparison  with  which  the  period  of  the 
human  family  upon  earth  is  but  an  hour,  this  Earth 
has  yielded  itself  to  the  support  of  animal  felicity  with 
incalculable  copiousness.     Conscious  existence — one, 
as  its  intention,  and  varying  very  little  in  its  primary 
elements,  although  infinitely  diversified  in  its  exterior 
and  its  structure — has  spread  itself  as  a  deluge  over 
all  lands,  and  has  filled  the  volume  of  the  deep. 

263.  Putting  out  of  view  just  now  these  last  brief 
years  of  human  history,  it  may  be  asked,  For  what  pur- 
pose has  this  planet  sped  its  way  through  space  from 
the  morning-time  of  the  creation — from  the  era  of  the 
fossiliferous  rocks  ?     Not,  we  may  be  sure,  to  clothe 
itself  in  mosses,  not  to  deck  itself  with  ferns,  and  to 
tuft  itself  with  palms,  but  rather  to  nourish  the  con- 
sciousness of  good. 

264.  During  the  lapse  of  planetary  time  stupendous 
catastrophes  have  once  and  again  swept  over  the  sur- 
face of  the  globe,  in  whole  or  in  part,  and  animal  life 
has  often  gone  down,  with  its  countless  millions,  into 
the  abyss  ;  yet  it  has  ever  and  again  reappeared ;  the 
waste  has  been  made  up,  the  desolated  places  have 
been  occupied — they  have  been  crowded  anew ;  and 
again,  through  millions  of  years,  ardent  suns,  rising 
and  setting  over  a  fertile  world,  have  seen  earth,  and 
air,  and  seas  quite  full  of  life — a  world  throughout 
which  Mind  has  wrought  its  purposes  in  ten  thousand 
different  roads,  but  always  effectively,  and  with  great 
success,  in  quest  of  its  well-being. 


BREADTH   OF  THE   WOKLD   OF  MIND.  Ill 

265.  We  should  accustom  ourselves  to  look  abroad 
upon  the  field  of  animal  life  away  from  that  point  of 
view  from  which  it  is  seen  only  in  contrast  with  the 
more  highly-developed  faculties  of  the  human  species. 
Instead  of  thinking  of  it  under  any  such  disadvanta- 
geous comparison,  let  us  sometimes  think  of  it  in  its 
absolute  quality,  or  such  as  it  is,  and  such  as  it  would 
seem  to  be  if  we  could  take  a  position  far  out  of  sight 
of  humanity. 

266.  If  in  this  manner  we  may  succeed  in  breaking 
in  upon  our  habits  of  thought,  and  in  forming  an  esti- 
mate of  the  wider  world  of  life,  unprejudiced  by  any 
comparison,  we  may  be  led  to  believe  that  the  pre- 
rogatives of  the  lower  orders  of  animal  existence  are 
of  a  kind  which  even  humanity  might  be  tempted  to 
think  enviable.     What,  then,  are  these  prerogatives  ? 

267.  The  correspondence  of  organized  beings  with 
the  material  world  takes  place  through  five,  six,  seven, 
or  more  channels.     It  is  true  that  there  are  orders  that 
seem  to  be  confined  to  one  or  two  only  of  these  inlets 
of  knowledge,  but  then  there  are  some — those  of  the 
insect  class  especially — that  indicate  perceptions  such 
as  the  larger  animals  and  man  have  no  consciousness 
of.     As  to  the  five  senses,  several  of  the  larger  animals 
possess  them  in  a  degree  of  acuteness  which  we  can 
scarcely  conceive  of.     Yet  it  is  not  on  the  ground  of 
these  more  acute  powers  of  sensation  in  relation  to  the 
outer  world  that  the  prerogatives  of  the  inferior  orders 
should  be  affirmed  to  surpass,  very  greatly,  those  of 
the  human  species. 

268.  Nevertheless,  while  this  subject  of  the  sensorial 
organization  is  before  us,  a  fact  suggestive  of  an  im- 


112  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

portant  inference  may  properly  be  noticed.  Amid 
those  endless  diversities  in  the  modes  of  existence 
which  display  themselves  throughout  the  animated 
world — differences  the  most  extreme  in  structure,  and 
in  function,  and  in  form — there  prevails  almost  an 
unvaried  sameness  both  as  to  the  objects  of  sensation 
and  as  to  the  organization  which  is  its  medium.  Mind 
touches  upon  or  converses  with  the  material  world  in 
respect  of  light,  sound — the  two  classes  of  (as  they 
may  be  called)  chemical  properties,  namely,  those  ad- 
dressed to  the  organs  of  smell  and  taste — and  as  to 
solid  extension  and  the  vis  inertice  of  masses,  as  well 
as  one  or  more  properties  that  are  obscurely  indicated 
in  the  instincts  of  some  insect  orders.  Diversity  be- 
longs to  the  exterior  of  animal  life,  but  at  every  step 
of  our  advance  toward  the  interior  more  and  more  of 
sameness  prevails. 

269.  The  inference  that  is  suggested  by  these  facts 
is  this:  that  Mind  is  a  uniform  principle;  that  it  is 
one  element ;  and  that,  in  its  relation  to  the  material 
world,  its  points  of  contact  can  be  only  few. 

270.  The  animal  force,  as  related  to  the  size  and  to 
the  mass  of  the  body  in  each  species,  is  far  from  being 
in  direct  proportion  to  either.     As  a  more  general  rule, 
the  animal  force,  as  related  to  the  mass,  is  inversely 
as  the  size  of  the  animal.     To  this  rule  there  are  many 
exceptions ;  but  it  so  far  prevails  as  this,  that  in  the 
insect  orders,  and  in  some  of  the  infusoria,  the  loco- 
motive power  superabounds  in  a  ratio  that  is  incalcu- 
lably great. 

271.  Moreover,  in  many  instances  among  the  di- 
minutive and  the  microscopic  species,  the  locomotive 


BREADTH   OF   THE   WORLD   OF   MIND.  113 

velocity  surpasses  very  greatly  the  apparent  sufficiency 
of  the  mechanical  apparatus  by  means  of  which  it  is 
effected.  This  apparent  excess  in  the  effect,  as  re- 
lated to  the  (mechanical)  means  or  cause,  might  per- 
haps be  alleged  to  have  some  place  in  the  instance  of 
the  swifter  birds ;  yet  in  a  still  more  distinct  manner 
does  it  present  itself  in  some  insects,  and  in  those 
microscopic  swimmers  and  skaters  in  the  organization 
of  which  it  is  very  difficult  to  detect  any  adequate 
means  for  effecting  the  incalculable  speed  of  their  in- 
cessant movements. 

272.  It  may  be  left  as  an  open  question  in  the  de- 
partment of  animal  physiology  whether,  in  the  instances 
that  are  now  referred  to,  that  rudimental  energy  which 
is  the  distinguishing  property  of  Mind  comes  to  bear 
mediately  or  immediately  upon  the  vis  inertice  of 
matter  and  upon  the  weight  of  the  body.     There  may, 
for  example,  be  room  for  the  conjecture  that  the  rudi- 
mental animal  energy  being,  in  all  orders,  a  constant 
quantity,  or  nearly  so,  when  it  is  lodged  in  a  body 
the  mass  and  weight  of  which  are  almost  infinitely 
small,  this  power  superabounds  to  a  prodigious  extent 
in  relation  to  the  work  it  has  to  do,  so  that  the  voli- 
tions of  the  animal  carry  it  with  electric  speed  in  all 
directions. 

273.  Leaving  a  surmise  of  this  sort  to  be  ascertained 
or  rejected,  the  unquestionable  fact  stands  in  our  view, 
unaffected  by  any  such  conjecture,  that  a  locomotive 
and  a  muscular  force  is  enjoyed  by  some  of  the  vola- 
tile insect  orders,  which,  if  it  had  been  conferred  in 
the  same  proportion  upon  the  lion  and  the  elephant, 
would  have  made  them  indeed  the  tyrants  of  creation. 


114  THE   WOULD   OF  MIND. 

The  eagle,  if  gifted  proportionally  with  the  wing- 
power  of  the  dragon-fly,  would  be  free  of  all  continents 
— would  range  the  planet  at  large,  and  would  prevent 
the  morning,  perching  in  one  hour  upon  the  Andes, 
and  in  the  next  upon  the  Himalaya. 

274.  As  to  the  consciousness  of  the  animal  when 
in  the  exercise  of  its  locomotive  and  muscular  force, 
no  account  is  taken  of  the  mechanical  means  through 
which  the  effect  is  produced.     Whether  the  volition 
realizes  itself  in  the  way  which  we  are  wont  to  imagine 
when  we  think  of  the  movements  of  celestial  "beings, 
or  whether  the  machinery  o'f  wings  and  limbs,  of  bones, 
muscles,  nerves,  be  all,  it  is  the  same  to  the  antelope, 
to  the  swallow,  to  the  fly,  and  to  the  hungry  atom 
which  darts  from  side  to  side  of  a  drop  of  water  in 
quest  of  its  prey. 

275.  On  this  ground  we  must  be  quite  safe  while 
we  interpret  animal  consciousness  at  large  by  the  anal- 
ogy of  our  own  consciousness ;  and  in  doing  so,  we 
may  look  back  to  that  bright  season  of  early  life — say 
from  the  twelfth  year  onward  toward  manhood — which 
is  especially  the  season  of  muscular  sport,  and  through- 
out which  the  force  of  the  body  is,  more  or  less  so, 
much  in  excess  of  the  demands  that  are  made  upon  it 
by  the  exigencies  of  life.     During  this  gay  gymnastic 
era,  and,  indeed,  long  beyond  it,  among  those  who  are 
exempt  from  toil,  the  mere  consciousness  of  animal  en- 
ergy, and  the  free  exercise  of  it  within  the  limits  of 
fatigue,  is  pleasurable  in  a  very  high  degree :  it  is  an- 
imal good  of  an  intense  kind. l 

276.  Grant  it — which  we  may  grant — that,  in  the 
more  complicated  structure  of  human  nature,  the  rudi- 


BREADTH   OF   THE   WORLD   OF   MIND.  115 

mental  or  organic  enjoyment  of  movement  and  sport 
soon  surrounds  itself  with  various  incidental  pleasura- 
ble emotions,  which  enhance  it  very  much,  yet  there 
is  here  again  a  balance  in  favor  of  the  animal  orders 
around  us  ;  for  with  many  of  these  the  powers  of  loco- 
motion, if  we  estimate  them  in  relation  to  the  size  and 
weight  of  the  animal,  are  immeasurably  greater  than 
they  are  in  man.  These  powers  are  also  far  more  per- 
sistent; that  is  to  say,  the  exercise  of  them  does  not 
so  soon  induce  exhaustion  and  bring  on  the  sense  of 
fatigue.  In  truth,  it  may  be  doubted  if,  either  in  the 
instinctive  movements  of  animals  while  in  pursuit  of 
their  welfare  or  in  their  purposeless  gambols,  that  col- 
lapse of  the  muscular  energy  which  so  soon  brings  it 
to  its  end  is  ever  experienced. 

277.  Those  indeed  must  be  stern  philosophers  who 
can  watch  the  gambols  of  the  young  of  animals,  and, 
refusing  to  interpret  them  by  the  aid  of  analogy,  would 
ask  direct  proof  of  the  assumption  that  these  coursings 
and  jumpings,  these  purposeless   circuits,  and  these 
races  to  no  end,  are  pleasurable.     We  take  it  for  cer- 
tain that  they  are  so ;  and  then  we  may  look  abroad 
upon  the  great  theatre  of  animal  existence — upon  earth, 
air,  and  water,  and  admit  the  belief  that  the  outgoings 
of  the  locomotive  energy  is  the  staple  of  animal  enjoy- 
ment ;  that  it  is  a  good  which,  if  it  be  less  intense,  is 
yet  of  much  greater  amplitude  than  that  attending  upon 
the  satiating  of  appetites.     To  satisfy  hunger  is  to  as- 
suage a  pain ;  not  so  to  sweep  the  cool  and  bright 
morning  skies  with  wings  that  do  not  tire. 

278.  If  to  man  labor  has  its  pleasures,  or,  rather, 
its  satisfactions,  this  pleasure  comes  in  only  as  a  com- 


116  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND.  <, 

pensation,  alleviating,  more  or  less,  the  pains  of  toil. 
Human  labor  may  indeed  be  cheerfully  borne,  and  it 
is  so  by  the  young  and  robust ;  but  labor  exacted  by 
want,  near  at  hand  or  remote,  is  undergone  because  it 
is  the  less  of  two  evils. 

279.  It  is  not  so  with  the  animal  orders.    We  must 
here  note  a  difference  which  gives  great  meaning  to  the 
comparison  that  is  just  now  in  our  view.     The  labors 
of  animals — such  as  those  of  the  bee,  or  of  the  beaver, 
or  of  the  bird  in  nidification,  or  of  the  ant  in  the  care 
of  its  young,  or  of  the  silk-worm,  or  of  the  spider — 
these  various  constructive  labors  might  be  brought  un- 
der two  designations,  for  they  are  the  products  either 
of  what  we  might  call  fixed  reason  or  of  free  reason. 
The  difference  seems  to  be  real. 

280.  Insect  architecture,  as  that  of  the  bee  and  the 
wasp,  and  we  might  include  the  nidificative  skill  of 
some  birds,  conforms  itself  invariably  to  the  principles 
of  the  very  highest  reason  ;  but  it  is  fixed  reason :  the 
rule  of  the  work  has  been  stereotyped  in  the  animal 
mind,  and  the  creature  seems  to  be  a  tool  only  in  the 
hand  of  an  occult  intelligence.     But  there  are  many 
orders  of  animals  whose  agency  in  pursuit  of  their  ob- 
ject consists  in  a  variable  appliance  of  individual  skill 
and  address  to  the  varying  exigencies  of  the  moment. 
There  is  much  of  this  sort  of  free  or  versatile  reason 
in  the  wiles  of  all  carnivorous  animals :  there  is  a  de- 
cisive display  of  it  in  the  labors  and  the  social  toils  of 
the  ant,  and  not  less  so  in  the  devices  of  the  rat,  one 
of  the  most  knowing  of  creatures.    As  to  domesticated 
animals,  with  them,  for  the  most  part,  the  fixed  reason 
has  quite  given  place  to  the  free,  and  thus  it  is  that 


BREADTH   OF   THE   WORLD   OF   MIND.  117 

the  shepherd's  or  the  sportsman's  dog  listens  as  intel- 
ligently as  the  drover's  boy  to  the  shrill  verbal  admo- 
nition, "Look  sharp,  there!"  when  the  bewildered 
flock  are  hurrying  through  a  town. 

281.  But  the  difference  that  should  be  noticed  is 
this — that  in  all  those  animal  labors  which  are  achieved 
in  conformity  with  what  we  have  called  fixed  reason, 
there  appears  to  be  an  established  or  stable  equilibrium 
in  the  animal  structure  between  the  work  that  is  to  be 
done  and  the  force  which  is  to  do  it.     The  force  is  al- 
ways as  the  labor ;  it  is  an  equation  that  is  constant 
and  involuntary  ;  so  that  no  sense  of  fatigue,  no  effort, 
no  determination  of  will,"  attends  this  species  of  work  ; 
there  is  no  exhaustion  or  waste  consequent  upon  an 
incidental  excess  of  the  task  beyond  the  strength  of 
the  animal. 

282.  An  inference  of  a  very  different  kind  is  sug- 
gested when  we  watch  any  of  those  labors,  construct- 
ive, predatory,  or  defensive,  which  come  under  the  sec- 
ond of  these  designations,  and  which  are  of  the  nature 
of  appliances  fitting  the  circumstances  of  the  moment. 
In  any  operations  of  this  latter  sort,  induced  by  an  oc- 
current  object,  and  conformed  to  its  specialities,  the 
signs  of  fatigue  and  exhaustion  soon  make  their  ap- 
pearance:  the  animal  slackens,  pants,  abandons  his 
purpose,  or  resigns  himself  to  his  fate.     Nature  has, 
indeed,  bestowed  upon  him  a  very  large  amount  of 
muscular  force,  but  it  is  not,  as  it  is  in  the  other  case, 
a  definite  quantity,  measured  against  a  task  which  is 
also  definite. 

283.  Here,  then,  a  prerogative  of  animal  existence 
throughout  the  lower  orders  presents  itself.     Human 


118  THE    WORLD    OF   MIND.  «£. 

labor,  to  the  whole  extent  of  it,  is  a  task  that  draws 
upon  the  stock  of  strength ;  it  is  a  task  which,  from 
its  commencement,  is  producing  exhaustion,  and  which 
must  come  to  its  end  in  a  collapse  of  mind  and  body. 

284.  In  this  species  of  exhaustive  labor  the  animal 
orders  participate  to   some  extent,  yet  (if  domestic 
animals  are  excepted)  it  is  under  conditions  that  are 
far  less  severe.     But  to  a  much  greater  extent  these 
orders  sustain  no  such  burden ;  for,  as  to  these  car- 
penters, these  masons,  these  joiners,  and  weavers,  and 
spinners,  they  plod  on,  from  early  to  late,  unconscious 
of  weariness :   they  cease  to  labor,  but  they  do   not 
then  throw  themselves,  as  if  worn,  upon  their  beds. 

285.  We  may  now  fancy  ourselves  in  the  heart  of 
that  wilderness  of  life  through  which  the  Amazon  rolls 
its  volumes.     Life  upon  this  broad  surface  develops 
itself  in  all  its  power :  the  humid  heat,  the  rampant 
growth  of  gigantic  plants  and  trees,  the  crowding  of 
all  species,  feeding  upon  never-exhausted  stores,  and 
in  their  turn  devoured — all  things  favor  the  replenish- 
ment of  this  region  with  animation  to  the  utmost  ex- 
tent that  may  be  possible.     What  is  aimed  at  in  this 
commonwealth,  and  what  is/  accomplished,  is  indeed 
"the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number." 

286.  But  as  to  these  millions,  many  as  they  may 
be,  each  individual  of  them  is  required,  from  sunrise 
to  sunset,  or  perhaps  from  sunset  to  sunrise,  to  look 
to  himself,  and  to  acquit  himself  well  as  the  guardian 
of  his  particular  life  and  happiness.     Who,  then,  shall 
calculate  the  prodigious  amount  of  labor  that  is  sum- 
med up  in  this  round  of  daily  work  ?     In  this  region 
there  is  often  great  noise;  there  is  chattering,  and 


BREADTH   OF   THE   WORLD   OF   MIND.  119 

chirping,  and  screaming,  and  wrangling ;  but  as  to  the 
work  that  is  done,  it  goes  on  silently ;  and  not  only 
silently,  but  without  inflicting  any  suffering  upon  the 
work-people:  the  twang  of  the  driver's  lash  is  not 
heard  in  all  this  populous  district.  Works  admirably 
finished  are  turned  out  here;  but  no  brows  are  be- 
dewed with  sweat,  no  tears  are  shed  upon  unrequited 
toil :  the  bread  that  is  eaten  is  not  the  bread  of  sor- 
rows. The  labor  could  not  have  been  more  easily 
performed  even  if  spirits  from  an  upper  world  had 
come  down  to  it. 

287.  We  are  treading  upon  ground  far  more  firm 
than  that  of  a  happy  and  benevolent  conjecture  whenj 
bringing  ourselves  into  position  for  looking  down  upon 
(let  it  be)  a  tropical  continent  replete  with  animal  life, 
full  of  innumerable  species,  we  think  of  it  in  this  single 
aspect  as  a  vast  place  of  woxk  where  labor  is  not  toil ; 
where  there  are  no  task-masters ;  where  there  is  no 
controversy  between  wage  and  capital ;  where  life  and 
its  costs  are  always  an  equation ;  where  existence  is 
no  burden,  and  where  it  pays  no  tax  except  the  final 
penalty,  the   poll-tax   that  is   levied   upon   all   that 
breathe. 

288.  A  tropical  wilderness  is,  however,  not  merely 
a  great  workshop,  but  it  is  a  theatre  of  gorgeous  deco- 
ration ;   and  here,  although  it  is  not  so  among  our- 
selves, the  work-people  are  all,  and  always,  well  dress- 
ed.    Just  now  we  have  affirmed  that  animal  labor  is 
not  a  drudgery ;  and  thus,  and  as  if  it  were  to  attest 
the  fact,  and  as  if  Nature  would  wish  us  so  to  inter- 
pret her  dealings  with  her  household,  so   it  is  that 
these  laborers  are  never  to  be  seen  otherwise  than  in 


120  THE   WOKLD   OF   MIND.  ^ 

holiday  trim.  Throughout  Nature's  own  industrial 
districts,  the  work  that  must  be  done  is  effected  by 
those  who  (as  to  many  of  them)  are  attired  like  princes ; 
they  are  decked  like  the  grandees  of  an  Eastern  pres- 
ence-chamber. 

289.  But  to  what  end  is  all  this  embellishment  ? 
Why  is  there  so  much  gold  and  jewelry  ?     Why  so 
much  wearing  of  plumes  ?     Why  are  the  colors  of  the 
rainbow  sprinkled,  and  spotted,  and  figured  upon  these 
mantles  and  coiffures  ?     Why  is  each  guild  so  sump- 
tuously emblazoned  with  the  symbols  of  its  ancestral 
glories  ?     These  are  questions  which  force  themselves 
upon  the  contemplative  man  who  paces  his  garden  in 
a  summer's  morning,  and  they  admit  of  more  than  a 
merely  conjectural  answer. 

290.  But  in  seeking  for  an  answer  we  need  not 
travel  so  far  as  to  a  wilderness  of  the  torrid  zone. 
We  may  find  it  in  the  hedge-row  nearest  our  cottage 
gate. 

291.  Every  step  of  that  advance  which  modern  sci- 
ence has  made,  and  which  it  is  daily  making,  confirms 
our  faith  in  the  principle  that,  in  the  economy  of  the 
material  world — and  we  are  now  thinking  of  the  sys- 
tems of  vegetable  and  animal  organization — there  is 
absolutely  nothing  superfluous,  nothing  which  has  no 
purpose.    There  is  nothing  included  either  in  the  struc- 
ture or  in  the  functions  of  plants  or  animals  which 
does  not  fulfill  an  intention.     In  certain  instances  we 
fail  to  divine  the  end  or  reason ;  but  in  these  exceptive 
cases,  what  is  unknown,  or  What  is  not  interpretable, 
still  bears  upon  its  front  the  easily-recognized  charac- 
teristics of  order  and  reason ;  and  we  freely  admit  the 


BREADTH   OF   THE   WORLD   OF   MIND.  121 

saving  inference  that,  although  human  science  has  here 
something  to  learn,  Nature's  work  is  neither  incom- 
plete nor  redundant. 

292.  Vegetable  and  animal  organization  in  all  spe- 
cies is  copiously  decorated.     In  some,  and  in  many 
species,  this  decoration  is  gorgeous ;  it  is  more  than 
simply  elegant — it  is  regal,  both  as  to  its  contours  and 
its  colors,  and  in  the  polish  and  the  finish  of  its  sur- 
faces.    This  broad  fact  is,  in  truth,  the  broadest  of  all 
the  facts  which  offer  themselves  to  the  eye  of  man 
when  he  looks  about  him  in  field  or  forest. 

293.  But  the  analyst  will  ask,  What  is  decoration  ? 
Is  it  a  reality  in  nature,  or  is  it  only  an  aspect  of 
things  which  owes  its  origin  entirely  to  the  human 
mind?      So  far  as  this  there  can  be  no  question, 
namely,  that  the  forms,  the  figurings,  the  tracery,  and 
the  polish  of  surfaces,  and  the  coloring  in  patterns — 
these  things  are  real ;  the  only  question  there  can  be 
room  for  is  this,  Whether  that  ornamental  meaning  or 
value  which  we  assign  to  them  is  also  real,  or  whether 
it  be  factitious  ?  whether,  as  decorative,  it  has  a  place 
in  the  purposes  of  Nature,  or  is  only  an  illusion  con- 
stant and  natural  to  man  ? 

294.  If  we  were  to  take  up  this  latter  supposition, 
then  the  entire  class  of  facts,  attaching  in  different  de- 
grees to  all  orders  of  beings,  vegetable  and  animal,  re- 
mains to  be  accounted  for.     If,  in  itself,  decoration  is 
nothing,  then  what  is  the  purpose  of  those  forms  and 
colors  which  we  think  to  be  ornament  ?     The  longer 
we  look  at  any  elaborately-ornamented  species,  the 
less  inclined  shall  we  be  to  surrender  our  instinctive 
feeling  that  ornament  is  ornament;  that  gay  colors 

F 


122  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND.  <. 

are  gay  /  that  fine  enameling  is  fine  /  in  a  word,  that 
beauty  of  all  kinds  is  beautiful. 

295.  But  if  we  assent  to  this  bold  and  yet  reason- 
able conclusion,  then  a  second  question  demands  some 
kind  of  answer.     For  whom,  or  for  whose  eye,  does 
Nature  thus  richly  deck  her  children  ?     In  respect  of 
whom  does  the  organized  world,  as  to  its  exterior, 
show  so  much  art,  which  is  more  than  the  mere  ma- 
chine demands  ?     For  what  purpose,  or  for  whose  en- 
tertainment is  it  that,  while  the  interior  machinery  of 
life,  vegetative  and  animal,  is  left  to  be  arranged  and 
finished  under  the  direction  of  mere  reason,  the  exte- 
rior— the  visible  adjustments,  obey  quite  another  law  ? 
Why  is  that  which  we  call  decoration  always  placed 
where  it  comes  within  the  reach  of  eyes  ? 

296.  We  may  say  that  ornament — beauty  of  form 
and  color,  are  good  in  the  eye  of  the  Creator.     This 
must  always  be  true;  but  the  answer  does  not  meet 
the  question ;  for  that  which  is  good  to  the  Creative 
Mind  is  good  in  respect  of  some  purpose  included  in 
the  creative  plan,  and  which  we  have  yet  to  look  for. 

297.  Dare  we  say  that  the  decorative  element,  at- 
taching as  it  does,  and  as  it  has  ever  attached,  to  or- 
ders far  remote  from  human  curiosity,  has  no  other 
purpose  than  that  of  attracting  the  listless  admiration 
of  man  ?    How  can  we  imagine  this  ?    Man  has  walk- 
ed the  earth  only  during  these  last  few  days  of  planet- 
ary time.     Creations,  each  of  them  gay  and  fair  as 
this,  have  had  their  times,  and  have  passed  away  al- 
most an  eternity  gone  by. 

298.  But  shall  we  entertain  the  conjecture  that  the 
beauty  of  the  world  is  for  the  recreation  of  celestial 


BEEADTH   OF   THE   WOELD   OF   MIND.  123 

visitants  ?  This,  or  any  other  surmise  equally  gratu- 
itous and  fanciful,  may  amuse  an  hour  of  reverie,  but 
in  this  place  we  are  in  search  of  reasons  or  supposi- 
tions which  may  stand  good  on  grounds  of  some  posi- 
tive evidence. 

299.  There  is  a  practicable  path  open  before  us  on 
this  ground.     If  the  question  be  put  in  its  most  com- 
prehensive terms,  Whether  the  animal  Mind  be  sus- 
ceptible, like  the  human  Mind,  of  pleasurable  emotions 
of  a  more  refined  or  intellectual  sort  than  are  those 
which  attend  the  satiating  of  appetites,  then  we  find  a 
conclusive  answer  to  such  a  question  in  the  sweet  mel- 
odies of  the  woods.     It  does  not  seem  possible  to  be 
skeptical  in  relation  either  to  these  facts  or  as  to  the 
inference  which  we  draw  from  them.     The  singing  of 
birds,  grateful  as  it  is  to  the  human  ear,  is  it  not  in- 
tensely grateful  to  the  ear  to  which  it  is  actually  ad- 
dressed ?     Few  would  be  so  stern  in  their  logical  ex- 
actions as  to  demand  any  further  proof  in  support  of 
this  inference  than  that  which  commands  our  assent 
when  we  listen,  in  the  lone  woods  at  night,  to  the  swell- 
ing music  of  the  nightingale.     Is  not  the  male  bird 
conscious  of  the  excellence ,  of  his  own  performance  ? 
and  does  not  his  mate  confess  the  charm  ? 

300.  Our  inferences,  then,  are  of  this  sort :  the  woods 
in  May  and  June  resound  with  melodies  :  this  is  fact ; 
it  is  not  surmise  ;  and  there  are  ears  to  listen  to  these 
notes  :  this  is  fact  also.     We  infer — if  the  inference  be 
not  too  bold — that  there  is  a  pleasurable  sense  in  the 
animal  Mind  quite  analogous  to  that  which  belongs  to 
the  human  Mind.     The  animal  Mind  is  not  merely 
animal  or  brute  ;  it  has  its  intellectuality,  and  it  has 


124  THE    WORLD   OF   MIND. 

its  emotions  of  pleasure  (intense,  probably,  as  they  are 
simple)  derived  from  sources  of  a  higher  range  than 
those  which  bear  upon  the  animal  preservation. 

301.  But  is  the  animal  Mind  conscious  also,  and 
pleasurably  conscious,  of  beauty  in  form  and  color  ? 
To  reach  a  probable  answer  to  this  question,  we  place 
some  unquestioned  facts  in  view,  as  before.     The  veg- 
etable world,  over  and  above  its  necessary  organiza- 
tion, or  its  mere  machinery  of  life,  growth,  and  fructi- 
fication, is  richly  decorated ;  its  contours  and  its  col- 
oring are  thrown  over  its  structure  and  its  functions 
of  life — of  reproduction  and  of  fructification.     In  like 
manner,  as  we  have  just  now  said,  decoration,  as  well 
in  forms  as  in  colors,  is  a  constant  fact  in  the  animal 
world.     But  if  so,  for  what  purpose  ? 

302.  We  must  here,  for  a  moment,  commit  ourselves 
to  a  strong  inference,  resting  on  the  ground  of  analogy. 
Facts  carry  us  some  way,  yet  they  are  not  absolutely 
conclusive.     Thus  far  they  sustain  our  supposition: 
certain  orders  become  conscious  of  the  decorations  that 
are  bestowed  upon  them  by  man.     It  is  so  with  the 
horse  and  the  elephant,  unquestionably.     But  is  not 
the  peacock,  as  he  unfurls  his  splendors  to  the  admir- 
ing sun,  is  he  not  vividly  conscious  of  his  own  magnif- 
icence ?    We  can  not  watch  his  movements  and  doubt 
it :  his  eyes,  advantageously  mounted  in  his  versatile 
head,  have  a  constant  prospect  of  this  emblazoned  fan ; 
it  is  always  in  his  view ;  and  the  creature  struts  and 
turns  as  if  he  would  court  other  eyes  to  be  fixed  upon 
it  too. 

303.  Less  distinct,  perhaps,  may  be  the  indications 
of  the  same  kind  which  we  should  gather  from  a  spec- 


BREADTH   OF   THE   WORLD   OF   MIND.  125 

tacle  that  is  not  less  attractive.  In  the  noon-hour  of 
the  summer's  day  we  stop,  as  if  doubtful  whether  we 
should  take  so  great  a  liberty,  to  gaze  upon  the  "  Bed 
Admiral"  butterfly  (Vanessa  Atalanta),  which  perches 
on  the  brim  of  the  gayest  flower  in  the  garden.  The 
wings,  not  then  in  use  for  flight,  yet  are  not  folded  or 
brought  together,  but  are  held  erect  and  apart,  and  they 
show  a  twitting  motion,  as  if  to  give  the  utmost  ad- 
vantage to  the  rays  that  fall  upon  the  downy  surface. 
The  creature's  eyes  are  so  planted  that,  while  the  calyx 
of  the  flower  is  before  it,  the  field  of  its  vision  is  chief- 
ly filled  with  its  own  outstretched  beauties.  Child  of 
an  hour !  in  its  structure  it  symbolizes  the  thoughtless 
felicity  of  its  own  lot.  The  past  troubles  it  not ;  the 
figured  velvet  of  its  wings  is  its  only  retrospection ; 
and  the  only  future  in  its  thought  is  the  honey-pot  at 
its  feet. 

304.  Without  doing  violence  to  any  rules  of  scien- 
tific logic,  we  may  either  accept  or  reject  the  hypothe- 
sis which  is  now  before  us.     If  we  reject  it,  then  the 
exterior  of  the  organized  world,  throughout  the  vege- 
table and  animal  orders,  presents  a  problem  that  can 
find  no  solution.    Why  are  fruits  and  flowers,  why  are 
birds,  butterflies,  and  shells,  and  all  things  else,  deco- 
rated?    Why  do  we  not  find  them  to  be  simple  ma- 
chineries, quite  as  sufficient  in  relation  to  their  destined 
purposes  without  a  decorated  exterior  as  they  can  be 
with  it.     The  decoration  is  indeed  no  encumbrance  to 
the  machine,  but  then  it  has  no  assignable  purpose ; 
and  yet,  in  all  things  else,  Nature  does  nothing  without 
a  purpose. 

305.  If  we  accept  this  hypothesis,  then  at  once  the 


126  THE   WOELD   OF  MIND. 

sense  of  fitness  is  satisfied,  and  it  is  much  more  than 
satisfied.  With  how  rich  and  copious  a  conscious- 
ness of  benevolent  intention  do  we  now  enter  the 
great  theatre  of  the  animated  world!  On  all  sides 
there  is  gayety,  beauty,  simple  elegance,  and  gorgeous 
magnificence.  Nor  has  this  theatre  been  thus  fitted 
up  in  vain.  It  has  its  sweet  melodies,  its  incense, 
and  its  perfumes ;  it  has  its  forms  of  grace,  and  its 
endless  commixtures  of  bright  colors ;  and  there  are 
eyes  every  where  to  gaze  upon  it;  and,  moreover, 
within  the  Mind-cell  of  these  myriads  of  beings  there 
is  (so  we  now  assume)  a  vivid  consciousness  of  what- 
ever is  thus  invested  with  any  pleasure-giving  prop- 
erty. 

306.  In  the  human  mind  every  source  of  enjoyment 
combines  itself  quickly  with  various  mixed  senti- 
ments ;  and  in  proportion  as  it  thus  complicates  itself, 
it  often  becomes  less  intense.  Nor  do  the  pleasures 
of  taste  fail  to  meet  many  abatements,  derived  from 
distastes,  or  from  sources  of  sadness  or  melancholy. 
But  it  may  be  easily  believed  that  those  rudimental 
pleasures  that  are  allotted  to  the  lower  animal  mind, 
if  they  lack  expansion  and  elevation,  yet  have  a  com- 
pensation in  their  pure  and  undisturbed  intensity. 
This  supposition  we  accept  as  on  every  ground  prob- 
able ;  and,  in  accepting  it,  we  may  think  ourselves  free 
to  entertain  the  tranquilizing  belief  that  the  beauty  of 
the  visible  world  is  a  beauty  of  which  there  is  a  per- 
petual fruition  in  the  consciousness  of  all  that  live — 
some,  perhaps,  in  a  low  degree,  and  some  to  such  an 
extent  as  well  to  justify  what  we  might  call  the  lavish 
ornamentation  of  the  world  of  organized  beings. 


BREADTH   OF   THE   WORLD   OF   MIND.  127 

307.  The  same  rudimental  intensity  manifestly  at- 
taches to  those  instincts  and  feelings  in  the  animal 
system  which  correspond  to  the  more  refined  emotions 
of  the  social  sentiment  in  man.     What  we  need  not 
scruple  to  call  the  conjugal  affection  and  the  passion- 
ate parental  fondness — an  heroic  care  of  offspring — 
these  elements  of  animal  life  give  such  evidence  of 
their  presence  and  their  power  as  admit  of  no  doubt. 

308.  These  semi-moral  affections,  which  so  often 
touch  upon  the  very  "borders  of  the  moral  economy, 
and  which,  as  one  might  say,  trench  upon  the  ground 
of  generous  and  tender  human  affections,  and  which 
can  not  Tbe  contemplated  by  ourselves  without  emo- 
tion— these  affections — these  conjugal  and  parental 
fervors,  are  nevertheless  confined  within  such  limits  as 
secure  them  against  those  sad  and  often  agonizing  re- 
vulsions that  draw  rivers  of  tears  from  human  suffer- 
ers.    The  semi-moral  affections  of  the  animal  orders 
around  us  are  short-dated ;  they  abide  in  their  energy 
for  a  season  only ;   they  leave  no  traces  where  they 
have  prevailed  with  the  utmost  force.     These  feelings 
of  one  class  do  not  complicate  themselves  with  feel- 
ings of  another  class ;  there  is  no  evidence  to  that  ef- 
fect, or  that  they  consolidate  themselves  upon  the  in- 
dividual mind  so  as  to  constitute  individual  character. 
If,  therefore,  they  fall  far  short  of  the  elevation,  and 
compass,  and  dignity  of  the  analogous  human  affec- 
tions, they  are  altogether  exempted  from  that  large 
counterweight  of  sorrow  and  suffering  under  the  press- 
ure of  which  the  heart  of  man  is  so  often  crushed. 

309.  As  to  each  of  the  constituents  of  animal  well- 
being,  this  general  affirmation  has  a  place:  It  is  a 


128  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

good,  enjoyed  to  the  utmost  extent  which  may  consist 
with  a  perfectly  secure  exemption  from  those  counter- 
active sufferings  that  affect  the  mind  much  rather  than 
the  body. 

310.  Hence  it  is  that  the  happiness  of  the  animal 
orders  (if  we  can  allow  this  word  to  Ibe  applied  to  the 
well-being  of  any  beneath  ourselves) — this  happiness 
must  be  set  forth  under  its  negative  aspect :  after  we 
have  thought  of  it  as  good  in  an  absolute  sense,  we 
must  think  of  it  also  as  good  in  the  sense  of  an  ex- 
emption from  the  ills  that  attach  to  a  higher  order  of 
well-being,  that  is,  the  human. 

311.  We  may  bring  forward  any  one  of  the  more 
highly-developed  animal  species,  and  ask,  What  more 
could  have  been  done  for  this  living  structure  ?     What 
gift,  additional  to  its  actual  endowments,  could  have 
been  conferred  upon  it,  only  stopping  short  of  those 
gifts,  intellectual  and  moral,  the  possession  ot  which 
involves  the  risk  of  loss  or  damage  as  to  what  is  al- 
ready possessed?     It  will  not  be  easy — we  should 
rather  say  it  will  not  be  possible  to  name  or  to  imag- 
ine any  such  bestowment.     In  seeking  for  a  boon  that 
might  safely  have  been  bestowed  upon  the  lower  or- 
ders, we  must  look  among  the  prerogatives  of  human 
nature ;  and  as  to  each  of  those  which  are  the  distinc- 
tion of  man,  each  has  fully  shown  its  perilous  quality. 

312.  Animal  happiness — let  the  word  pass  at  this 
time — animal  happiness,  taxed  as  it  is  with  the  liabil- 
ity to  momentary  organic  pain,  the  pangs  of  death  in- 
cluded, is  taxed  in  no  other  way.     We  may  certain- 
ly affirm  this,  because  a  liability  to  suffer  in  any  other, 
and,  as  it  may  be  called,  higher  mode,  could  not  exist 


BREADTH   OF   THE   WORLD   OF  MIND.  129 

except  as  the  consequence  of  the  possession  of  higher 
faculties,  which  would  give  evidence  of  their  presence 
in  the  actions  and  habits  of  the  animal. 

313.  By  the  rule  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  con- 
stitution of  man  which  has  not  been  dimly  symbolized 
in  the  structure  of  the  lower  animal  orders,  we  may 
grant  to  some  of  the.  domesticated  animals — to  the  dog, 
the  horse,  the  elephant — a  shadowy  sensibility  to  moral 
sentiments — a  consciousness  of  good  and  of  its  contra- 
ry, just  enough  to  bring  them  within  the  penumbra  of 
the  moral  system.     But  this  is  the  utmost  that  can  be 
alleged  on  this  ground ;  and,  therefore,  it  is  safe  to  af- 
firm concerning  these  countless  millions  of  conscious 
beings  that  to  them  the  field  of  their  existence  is  an 
Eden :  they  sport  their  day,  unknowing  as  to  evil ; 
they  are  exempt  from  dark  surmisings,  from  gloomy 
forebodings,  from  terrors  of  the  imagination,  from  heart- 
achings,  from  remorses,  from  jealousy,  from  harbored 
malice,  from  the  torments  of  baffled  ambition,  from  the 
sense  of  humiliation ;  they  know  nothing  of  the  gan- 
grene of  pride ;  they  sustain  not  the  listless  conscious- 
ness of  life  without  a  purpose,  or  the  weary  sense  of 
life  overweighted  with  labor  and  care. 

314.  To  the  animal  orders,  the  future,  in  its  forms 
either  of  hope  or  of  fear,  has  no  existence ;  to  them 
the  forecasting  of  the  future  is  a  germ  only,  serving  to 
vitalize  certain  conservative  instincts.     Nor  can  the 
past  be  more  than  a  residual  fragmentary  element, 
mingling  itself,  without  product,  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  present  moment. 

315.  Such  as  these,  then,  so  far  as  probable  con- 
jecture, following  the  indications  of  palpable  facts, 

F2 


130  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

may  lead  us — such  as  these  are  the  conditions  under 
which  life,  with  its  faculties  of  enjoyment,  has  been 
granted  to  innumerable  species,  through  countless  cy- 
cles of  duration.  This,  or  nearly  such,  for  we  can  not 
here  greatly  err,  is  that  idea  of  good  which  gives  law 
to  the  creation.  A  higher  idea,  and  we  must  admit  it 
to  be  higher,  namely,  that  of  intellectual  development 
and  a  moral  system,  is  the  rare  and  the  recent  except- 
ive instance. 

316.  Leaving,  then,  this  exceptive  instance  to  be 
considered  on  other  grounds,  and  to  be  brought  within 
range  of  principles  which  physical  science  can  never 
supply,  we  are  free — and,  perhaps,  we  may  do  so  in  a 
more  ample  and  distinct  manner  than  heretofore — to 
rest  upon  the  tranquil  conception  of  a  scheme  of  exist- 
ence, the  length  and  breadth,  the  height  and  depth  of 
which  surpass  all  powers  of  thought,  but  throughout 
which  GOOD  prevails ;  upon  which  EVIL  makes  no  in- 
road, and  upon  which  organic  pain  glances  only  for  an 
instant. 

317.  With  such  a  scheme  neighboring  upon  us,  it 
can  not  be  well  to  leave  it  out  of  our  account  when 
our  purpose  is  to  explore  the  WOELD  OF  MIND. 

NOTE. — Comparative  Physiology,  in  its  present  state  of  advance- 
ment and  expansion,  is  rich  in  instances  confirming  and  illustrating, 
what  has  been  advanced  in  this  section.  A  volume  would  soon  be 
filled  with  such  illustrations ;  but  to  adduce  them  in  this  place  would 
too  long  interrupt  our  pursuit  of  that  which  more  directly  belongs  to 
the  purpose  of  this  elementary  book.  In  a  supplementary  section, 
some  facts  gathered  from  this  field,  and  which  are  peculiarly  signifi- 
cant in  relation  to  our  subject,  will  be  brought  together. 


RUDIMENTS   OF   MIND.  131 


X. 

RUDIMENTS   OF   MIND. 

318.  IN  any  case  when  we  are  in  search  of  what  we 
believe  to  be  rudimental  in  the  constitution  of  things, 
two  courses  are  before  us.     The  first  of  these  might 
be  called  the  chronological  path ;  for  instance,  we  may 
seek  for  that  which  gives  the  earliest  indication  of  its 
presence  among  the  several  constituents  that  are  in 
question.     The  second  path  is  that  of  analysis  ;  and 
the  result  we  are  seeking  for  will  be  that  one  element 
which,  in  the  most  absolute  manner,  defies  our  endeav- 
ors to  give  expression  to  it  in  descriptive  terms,  or  to 
speak  of  it  otherwise  than  by  substituting  one  name 
for  it  instead  of  another. 

319.  Taking,  then,  the  first -named  of  these  two 
courses,  we  ask,  Among  those  elements  that  are  as- 
sumed to  be  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  ani- 
mal life  as  compared  with  vegetable  life,  which  of  them 
is  the  earliest  dated  f  In  seeking  an  answer,  we  should 
be  careful  to  avoid  whatever  belongs  to  animal  physi- 
ology, and,  therefore,  we  leave  to  the  physiologist  the 
history  of  the  embryo ;  but  this  fact  we  are  entitled  to 
receive  from  him — a  fact  which  he  must  leave  just  as 
he  finds  it,  unexplained — namely,  the  manifestation  of 
individual  life  in  the  embryo  long  before  the  animal 
has  conversed  with  the  outer  world  by  the  eye,  or  the 
ear,  or  other  senses. 

320.  Very  properly,  we  decline  to  enter  upon  a  sub- 


132  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

ject  so  occult  as  this,  but  yet  it  may  be  affirmed  that 
muscular  movement,  differing  essentially  from  any 
movements  that  are  observable  in  the  vegetable  world, 
precedes  sensation,  unless  it  be  some  undefined  con- 
sciousness that  is  earlier  dated  than  parturition. 

321.  In  this  way,  the  animal,  before  its  entrance 
upon  the  world,  declares  itself  to  live,  and  it  lays  claim 
to  its  individuality  long  before  it  has  concerned  itself 
with  the  things  of  the  world.     This,  then,  is  the  reply 
to  our  inquiry  as  to  the  first  rudiment  of  mind,  if  we 
seek  it  on  the  chronological,  path. 

322.  The  result  is  the  same  if  we  pursue  inquiry 
on  the  path  of  analysis.     Sensation  is  composite ;  it 
is  the  product  of  two  or  more  forces  from  without,  act- 
ing upon  an  organization  that  is  complicated  in  its 
structure.     There  are  five,  six,  or  more  kinds  of  sen- 
sation; and  when  these  are  compared — any  one  of 
them  with  any  other,  or  when,  in  turn,  we  compare 
one  with  all  the  others— we  find  room  for  distinctions 
and  for  descriptive  statements.     In  sensation  more  is 
implied  than  a  simple  and  single  rudiment.     Certain- 
ly there  is  more  than  there  is  in  that  which  we  are  in- 
tending to  name  as  indeed  the  first  rudiment  of  mind, 
namely,  POWER  or  Force,  as  related  to  the  masses  of 
the  material  world. 

323.  Again  we  refrain  from  that  which  belongs  to 
animal  physiology,  and,  therefore,  make  no  inquiry  con- 
cerning a  nervous  system,  or  that  muscular  apparatus 
through  which  animal  movement  is  effected.     MIND 
has  no  consciousness  of  nerves  or  of  muscles:  volition 
is  a  purely  rudimental  fact,  having  respect  to  nothing 
but  the  mental  intention  which  is  realized  at  the  in- 


RUDIMENTS    OF   MIND.  133 

stant  when  it  takes  place ;  how  realized  the  mind  nei- 
ther knows  nor  cares,  but  the  physiologist  may  dis- 
cover if  he  can. 

324.  At  this  point  there  stands  before  us  an  in- 
stance very  proper  for  showing  the  independence  and 
the  separate  departments  of  mental  science  and  ani- 
mal physiology.     When  the  physiologist  has  told  us 
every  thing  that  he  knows  concerning  those  sensations 
which  give  rise  to  the  volition,  and  then  concerning 
the  conveyance  of  these,  by  one  set  of  nerves,  to  the 
sensorium,  and  then  the  conveyance  of — he  knows  not 
what — by  another  system  of  nerves,  to  the  muscles 
(the  extensors,  or  deflectors,  or  any  others),  and  then 
the  contractile  irritability  of  these  muscles,  and  then 
the  pull  upon  the  bony  leverage — when  we  have  learn- 
ed all  these  particulars,  or  any  others,  there  remains  a 
connecting  fact  to  be  sought  for,  which,  if  we  fail  to 
find  it,  must  be  reserved  as  forming  the  inscrutable 
link  between  Mind  and  Matter ;  it  is  that,  the  reality 
of  which  we  may  confidently  assume,  but  concerning 
which  we  can  know  nothing  beyond  the  fact  of  its  re- 
ality. 

325.  On  the  one  side  there  is  THOUGHT;  or  we 
may  call  it,  as  we  please,  volition,  or  intention,  or  any 
thing  else.     On  this  ground,  the  choice  of  words  can 
neither  help  us  much  nor  hinder  us  much.     On  one 
side  there  is  Thought,  or  Mind  in  Act  /  on  the  other 
side  there  is  motion,  taking  place  in  a  mass,  larger  or 
smaller,  heavier  or  lighter.     The  intervening  apparatus 
we  are  unconscious  of — we  are  quite  mindless  in  re- 
gard to  it :  it  is  to  the  Mind  as  if  it  were  not. 

326.  We  occupy  nearly  the  same  position  as  to  the 


134  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND.  •*. 

organs  of  sensation.  We  know  nothing  of  the  eye  or 
the  ear  unless  we  choose  to  give  attention  to  them ;  nor 
do  we  know  any  thing  of  the  connection  between  the 
organ  of  sensation  and  the  Mind.  Up  to  this  present 
moment  no  progress  whatever  has  been  made,  either 
on  the  side  of  physiology  or  on  the  side  of  mental  phi- 
losophy, in  stepping  across  the  interval  between  Mind 
and  Matter.  If  the  time  should  come  when  this  in- 
veterate mystery  may  be  spoken  of  as  cleared  up,  two 
sciences  must  then  be  melted  into  one ;  but  until  then 
they  must  be  treated  apart,  and  each  in  its  own 
manner. 

327.  The  word  Thought  usually  carries  with  it 
several  constituent  ideas,  of  which  hereafter  we  are  to 
speak ;  in  place,  therefore,  of  this  word  just  now,  we 
say,  Mind  in  Act  toward  matter  is  the  earliest,  and 
it  is  the  most  rudimental  of  those  characteristics  which 
distinguish  animal  life  from  vegetable  life. 

328.  When  the  individual  consciousness  has  be- 
come developed  to  some  extent,  as  we  shall  see  pres- 
ently, mind  begins  to  act  upon  itself;  but  before  this 
development  has  taken  place,  it  acts  upon  matter  in 
the  mass.     There  is,  however,  room  for  the  question 
whether  it  does  not,  in  some  occult  manner,  act  also 
upon  the  animal  organization  chemically,  or  otherwise 
than  by  volition.     It  may  do  so,  and  there  is  reason 
to  think  that  it  does  ;  but  this  kind  of  agency,  because 
it  is  involuntary,  and  is  unconsciously  carried  on,  be- 
longs rather  to  physiology  than  to  the  science  of 
Mind. 

329.  The  intensity  of  the  Mind-force,  differing  as 
it  does,  by  so  many  degrees,  in  different  orders  of  an- 


RUDIMENTS   OF  MIND.  135 

irnals,  has  already  been  spoken  of  (272,  et  seq.).  The 
subject,  highly  curious  and  significant  as  it  is,  could 
not  be  entered  upon  to  any  good  purpose  apart  from 
its  relationship  to  animal  physiology.  A  word  only 
can  be  here  admitted  indicative  of  the  course  which 
such  an  inquiry  might  pursue. 

330.  It  might  first  be  inquired,  What  are  the  limits 
of  the  Force  of  animal  volition  as  related  to  matter  in 
the  mass,  or  to  gravitation,  or  to  the  resistance  of  the 
medium — air  or  water — or  to  the  tenacity  of  solids  ? 
These  limits  seem  to  be  of  the  same  kind  as  those 
which  set  a  boundary  to  all  mechanical  appliances, 
namely,  the  strength  of  the  materials  which  we  must 
employ.     It  is  so  with  steam-power,  and  it  is  so  with 
the  hydraulic  press.     Give  what  thickness  we  may  to 
cylinders — to  boilers,  to  tubes — yet  iron,  and  copper, 
and  brass  will  yield  to  these  forces  sooner  or  later. 
The  question  as  to  the  limits  of  animal  Mind-force 
passes  over,  in  like  manner,  into  the  department  of 
physiological  problems  relating  to  the  tenacity  of  the 
tendinous  cords,  the  strength  of  the  fibrous  structure 
of  muscles,  and  the   lever-power  of  the  bony  tubes 
which  are  the  fulcra.     The  animal  mind  acquires,  un- 
consciously, a  perception  of  the  limits  within  which  it 
should  confine  its  intrinsic  energy.     But  this  pruden- 
tial consciousness  of  its  organization  is  lost  sight  of  in 
cases  of  extraordinary  excitement  or  of  peril  of  life, 
and  also  in  moments  of  phrensy  or  delirium.     Under 
some  of  these  abnormal  conditions,  the  animal  force 
shows  itself  to  be  five  or  ten  to  one  greater  than  its 
ordinary  amount. 

331.  An  approximate  estimate  of  the  intrinsic  force 


136  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND.  *£ 

of  the  animal  mind  might  be  obtained  by  considering 
the  locomotive  speed  of  any  animal  as  affording  an  in- 
dication of  what  it  is  in  itself.  Thus,  if  the  extreme 
length  of  the  animal  from  tip  to  tail,  or  the  extreme 
length  from  tip  to  tip  of  the  wings,  be  taken  as  an  in- 
teger of  space,  then  it  may  be  asked  as  to  each  spe- 
cies, How  many  times  in  a  second  does  the  animal  re- 
peat its  length  when  he  is  moving  at  his  utmost  speed? 
A  race-horse  does  this,  perhaps,  ten  times ;  a  grey- 
hound fifteen  times ;  some  insects — crawlers — thirty, 
fifty  times.  Swimmers  and  skaters — fish  and  some 
insects — several  hundred  times  ;  the  speed  of  some  of 
the  infusoria  is  in  a  vastly  higher  proportion  as  related 
to  their  size. 

332.  A  general  inference  derived  from  facts  of  this 
kind  would,  as  we  have  already  said,  support  the  con- 
jecture that  that  intrinsic  force,  of  which  the  locomo- 
tive speed  of  an  animal  is  the  exponent,  is  not  directly 
as  his  size,  but  inversely  so.     This  supposition  would 
imply,  as  a  general  principle,  that  it  is  almost  uniform 
intrinsically,  or  that  the  germ  which  is  allotted  to  dif- 
ferent orders  and  species  differs  much  less  than  in  the 
ratio  of  their  comparative  dimensions. 

333.  It  more  nearly  concerns  our  present  purpose 
to  give  the  clearest  possible  expression  to  what  we 
mean  when  we  allege  in  behalf  of  this  intrinsic  Power 
an  initiative  prerogative,  which  we  assume  to  be  the 
prime  characteristic  of  Mind  and  its  FIRST  RUDIMENT. 
But,  to  give  all  the  distinctness  that  is  attainable  to 
such  a  statement,  we  must  go  in  quest  of  another  rudi- 
ment, and  we  shall  then  see  how  the  two  come  to  a 
bearing  one  upon  the  other,  and  thence  we  may  learn 
something  more  concerning  each. 


RUDIMENTS   OF  MIND.  137 

334.  Although,  as  we  have  said,  we  know  nothing 
of  elements  in  themselves  or  by  themselves,  we  may 
know  much  concerning  them  in  observing  how  they 
work  when  in  combination.     The  Physical  Sciences 
are  occupied  exclusively  with  these  relationships  of 
elements  or  of  forces,  not  at  all  with  the  elements 
themselves.     It  is  no  wonder,  therefore,  if  the  same  be 
true  as  to  Mental  Philosophy :  its  primary  facts,  like 
those  of  the  material  world,  are  impenetrable  mys- 
teries ;   its  secondary  facts  are  what  we  have  to  do 
with,  and  these  are  intelligible. 

335.  We  have  said  (55  and  243)  that  because  Mind 
takes  a  bearing  upon  Matter,  Mind  and  Matter  are  two 
natures,  not  one.     And  then,  what  is  parallel  to  this, 
that  because  Matter  takes  a  bearing  upon  Mind,  which 
in  this  respect  is  passive,  therefore  Matter  and  Mind 
are  two  natures,  not  one. 

336.  As  much  as  this  must  be  assumed  before  we 
can  lay  the  foundation  stone  of  a  Philosophy  of  the 
Mind.     In  granting  it,  we  go  no  further  upon  conjec- 
tural ground  than  we  do  at  every  step  in  prosecuting 
the  physical  sciences.     If  we  hesitate  to  allow  this 
first  step,  we  can  no  more  make  progress  than  we  can 
in  geometry  after  refusing  to  assent  to  its  axioms. 

337.  Power  must  be  claimed  as  the  distinction  of 
Mind  when  animal  life  is  brought  into  comparison  with 
vegetable  life.     Its  second  rudiment  is  its  sensibility 
toward  certain  properties  of  matter  ;  this  is,  therefore, 
a  passive  or  negative  quality,  even  as  the  first  is  active 
or  positive. 

338.  We  should  here  guard  ourselves  against  the 
besetting  illusion  which  impels  us  so  often  to  seek  in 


138  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND.  *+» 

the  etymology  of  words  what  can  never  be  found  there 
— some  insight  into  the  hidden  nature  of  the  things 
which  words  symbolize.  We  may  be  tempted  to  ask 
what  the  meaning  is  of  the  word  here  employed — 
Sensibility,  or  its  derivatives,  or  its  synonyms ;  or  of 
any  other  words  which  we  may  think  more  significant 
than  these.  But  we  shall  wring  nothing  from  the  lexi- 
con that  will  afford  us  a  particle  of  aid  on  this  ground. 
Just  as  well  might  the  chemist,  in  search  of  elements, 
take  the  printed  labels  from  his  drawers  and  bottles, 
and  put  them  into  his  crucible,  as  we,  when  in  search 
of  facts  in  Mental  Science,  open  the  dictionary,  or  go 
on  to  inquire  what  may  have  been  the  usage  of  the  best 
writers  on  these  subjects ;  such  inquiries  can  affect 
nothing  but  the  small  proprieties  of  style. 

339.  The  words  we  use,  be  they  what  they  may, 
must  indicate  just  this  fact,  that  our  consciousness  in- 
cludes what  we  know  to  be  not  of  the  Mind  itself,  nor 
to  arise  out  of  it,  but  to  come  in  upon  it  from  abroad, 
and  that  over  these  elements  of  its  consciousness  it  ex- 
ercises only  a  limited  control.     The  mind  knows  it- 
self to  be  related  to  a  world  which  presses  hard  upon 
it  in  several  definite  modes,  and  from  which  pressure  it 
has  no  power  entirely  to  protect  itself,  even  when  that 
pressure  has  become  painful. 

340.  But,  then,  this  passivity,  this  involuntary  con- 
sciousness toward  the  outer  world,  is  much  modified 
by  the  very  structure  of  the  organs  of  sensation ;  for, 
in  truth,  these  organs,  although  we  think  of  them  as 
the  inlets  of  what  is  extrane6us  to  the  Mind,  yet  serve 
as  its  defense  also — as  its  coating  against  these  stim- 
ulants, so  that,  except  at  certain  well-defined  points, 


RUDIMENTS   OF  MIND.  139 

and  under  rigid  conditions  as  to  the  intensity  of  the 
impression,  Mind  is  fenced  in  against  the  external 
world. 

341.  The  most  notable  instance  of  this  defensive 
economy  is  presented  in  the  organ  of  sight.     In  its  re- 
lation of  sensibility  to  the  undulations  of  light,  the 
Mind  couches  in  its  den  behind  its  two  windows,  these 
being  of  very  small  diameter ;  and  they  are  not  only 
furnished  with  curtains,  but  are  protected  also  with 
shutters  and  fringes  in  the  most  jealous  manner.     The 
same  style  of  caution,  though  not  to  the  same  extent, 
attaches  to  each  of  the  organs  of  sensation ;  and  thus 
an  indication,  if  not  a  direct  evidence,  is  afforded  of 
the  truth,  that  the  passivity  of  Mind  toward  Matter  is 
intimate,  and  intense,  and  immediate,  and  such  that  it 
could  be  sustained  no  otherwise  than  under  conditions 
of  elaborate  caution  and  of  much  abatement. 

342.  The  active  rudiment  of  Mind  as  related  to 
Matter,  through  the  muscular  system,  has  this  ad- 
vantage, that  it  may,  in  most  instances,  regulate  for 
itself  the  intensity  of  the  encounter.     The  solid  resist- 
ance of  bodies,  and  their  vis  inertice,  and  their  gravita- 
tion, are  met  only  in  such  degrees  as  is  proportioned 
to  the  muscular  tenacity  and  the  safe  tension  of  parts. 
It  is  only  in  exceptive  cases,  therefore,  that  this  due 
measure  is  ever  exceeded,  or  that  any  injury  to  the  or- 
ganization is  sustained. 

343.  As  to  the  other  senses — the  five,  as  they  are 
usually  accounted,  or  six — they  are  so  related  one  to 
the  other,  and  are  so  related  to  the  central  conscious- 
ness, as  to  induce  an  incessant  interaction  between  the 
active  and  the  passive  elements  of  the  Mind  ;  and  it  is 


140  THE   WOKLD   OF   MIND.  ^ 

from  this  interaction,  and  directly  by  the  means  of  it, 
that  the  personal  consciousness — the  reflex  life,  the 
centralization  of  thought — is  developed,  and  that  it 
comes  to  be  the  habit  of  the  Mind. 

344.  This  process  of  development  may  be  followed 
through  its  stages  in  this  manner : 

345.  Vision  takes  place  at  the  two  extremities  of 
a  line  which  forms  the  base  of  a  triangle,  whereof  the 
object  in  view  is  at  the  opposite  angular  point.     The 
inclination  of  the  orbits  of  the  two  eyes  is,  therefore, 
perpetually  needing  to  be  adjusted  to  the  varying  dis- 
tances of  objects.     This  iricessant  adj  ustment,  although 
we  are  ordinarily  unconscious  of  it,  is,  in  fact,  volun- 
tary, as  we  find  whenever  an  unusual  case  of  vision 
presents  itself.     Being,  as  it  is,  voluntary,  it  may  be 
regarded  as  that  initial  lesson  in  the  learning  of  which 
the  active  rudiment  of  Mind  accustoms  itself  to  its 
life-long  companionship  with  its  passive  rudiment.     A 
conception  of  things  external,  as  external,  is  the  prod- 
uct of  this  habitual  relationship  of  the  one  to  the 
other. 

346.  Every  change  of  place,  either  in  ourselves  or 
in  the  things  around  us,  offers  to  the  eye  a  new  image ; 
but  then,  as  the  change  takes  place  gradually — slowly 
perhaps,  and  as  we  witness  it  in  progress  from  one 
instant  to  the  next,  we  assign  these  successive  pic- 
tures to  one  and  the  same  external  object.     And  thus 
it  is  that  another  step  is  taken  in  that  process  which 
gives  us  single  concrete  perceptions,  which  we  accept 
as  the  result  of  many  successive  sensations.     This 
process  develops  the  personal  consciousness,  for  it  is 
the  EGO  that  is  thus  gathering  in  and  holding  in  store 


RUDIMENTS   OP   MIND.  141 

for  after  purposes  these  perceptions,  or  these  notions 
of  things  existing  apart  from  ourselves. 

347.  It  may  well  be  doubted  whether  any  repeti- 
tion of  simple  organic  sensations,  if  they  were  not  thus 
gathered  up  and  compacted,  would  ever  awaken  that 
reflective  consciousness  which  is  the  life  of  our  mental 
life.     This  awakening  is  the  fruit  of  the  incessant  play 
of  the  mind  as  an  active  principle  upon  its  passive 
rudiment — its  sensibility  toward  the  properties  of  the 
material  wqrld. 

348.  This  process  is  greatly  accelerated  when  the 
sensations  of  one  organ  are  brought  into  combination 
with  those  of  another,  as,  for  instance,  when  the  ear 
and  the  eye  come  into  agreement  respecting  any  object 
as  the  one  source  or  cause  of  two  kinds  of  sensation. 
So  it  is  when  a  musical  instrument,  seen,  is  recog- 
nized as  the  source  of  the  sounds  we  are  listening  to. 
Sensations  of  sight  are  then  united  with  sensations  of 
hearing ;  and  the  two  kinds,  centred  upon  one  object, 
give  form  and  fixedness  to  our  conceptions  of  the  ex- 
ternal world.     We  come  to  think  of  all  things  around 
us  not  so  much  as  the  causes  of  certain  impressions 
made  on  the   senses,  but  as  realities,  existing  inde- 
pendently of  us,  and  irrespectively  of  our  knowledge 
of  them.     We  gain  acquaintance  with  the  objects  of 
the  external  world  sometimes  by  one  sense  alone,  more 
often  by  two  or  three  in  combination  ;  and  we  acquire 
our  knowledge  of  them  under  so  many  various  condi- 
tions, that  the  things  are  thought  of  much  rather  than 
the  particular  mode  in  which  they  may  have  come  into 
the  place  they  occupy  in  our  minds. 

349.  But  it  is  true  in  mental  as  well  as  in  me- 


142  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND.  *^ 

chanical  philosophy,  that  action  and  reaction  are  equal. 
In  thus  conceiving  of  the  objects  around  us  apart 
from  any  thought  of  the  means  of  our  knowledge  of 
them,  a  reaction  takes  place  upon  ourselves.  We 
come  to  think  of  the  EGO  as  an  independent  and  in- 
tegral existence,  which  stands  in  an  opposed  relation- 
ship toward  all  these  outer  objects.  Just  in  propor- 
tion as  our  notions  of  the  world  around  us  are  thus 
congested,  and  are  regarded  as  objects  to  which  we 
and  our  welfare  are  related,  so  does  the  personal  con- 
sciousness become  a  distinct  feeling — a  fixed  habit  of 
the  intellectual  life.  The'  reflex  life  is  thus  developed, 
and  it  becomes  the  ground  and  reason  of  our  course 
of  conduct  and  of  our  individual  feelings.  This  de- 
velopment— this  thought  of  ourselves — on  the  one 
side,  and  of  all  other  things  and  persons  on  the  other 
side,  is  a  distinction  of  human  nature  as  compared 
with  the  natures  around  and  beneath  the  human. 

350.  Simple  sensations — those,  for  instance,  of  sight 
and  hearing,  of  touch,  and  taste,  and  smell — come  and 
pass  away,  and  would  quickly  be  lost  to  conscious- 
ness.    But  perceptions  gathered  from  sensations,  and 
especially  such  as  combine  the  evidence  of  two  or  more 
of  the  senses,  are  persistent  and  adhesive,  and  they 
constitute  the  mind's  stock  of  materials,  to  be  made 
available  in  all  kinds  of  intellectual  and  moral  action. 

351.  As  to  these  stores  of  thought,  we  may  adopt 
the  opinion  that  the  brain  is  the  repository  of  them ; 
or  we  may  believe  that  the  mind  is  the  real  home  of 
all  thought,  the  brain  acting  only  as  the  medium  of 
transmission.     Our  present  purpose  does  not  require  a 
decision  of  this  question.     In  truth,  no  certain  solu- 


RUDIMENTS   OF   MIND.  143 

tion  of  the  problem  can  be  pretended,  for  it  is  one  of 
those  secret  things  toward  the  discovery  of  which  we 
possess  no  indications. 

352.  The  indisputable  fact  is  what  we  have  now  to 
do  with,  and  it  is  this :  That  conceptions  of  the  things 
of  the  outer  world — we  may  call  them  pictures — images 
— ideas — these  conceptions  or  reiterated  sensations  are 
in  course  of  being  accumulated  perpetually ;  the  fund 
is  every  moment  on  the  increase ;  and,  by  the  spon- 
taneous combinations  which  are  taking  place  within 
the  mass,  it  increases  itself,  as  one  might  say,  at  the 
rate  of  compound  interest. 

353.  This  fund  of  images  or  ideas  is  in  a  state  of 
incessant  movement  or  of  internal  convolution,  so  that 
the  mind,  when  itself  it  is  in  the  least  active  condition, 
is  presented  with  scenes  perpetually  shifting,  coming 
up,  and  passing  on,  and  disappearing,  unsought  for, 
and  often  unheeded. 

354.  It  is  true  that  there  are  laws  of  association  in 
conformity  with  which  these  exuvice  of  our  perceptions 
present  themselves  in  series  to  the  mind.     These  laws 
have  been  specified  in  some  such  manner  as  this :  there 
is  the  law  of  chronological  order,  or  proximity  in  time ; 
the  law  of  juxtaposition,  or  proximity  in  place ;  and 
the  law  of  frequency  of  recurrence ;  the  law  of  intens- 
ity as  to  the  attendant  emotions ;  the  law  of  artificial 
connection  by  means  of  habits ;  and  several  other  modes 
of  adhesion  might  be  named. 

355.  But  what  we  should  note  is  this :  that  the 
mass  of  these  treasures  of  thought,  being,  as  it  is,  so 
great  and  so  multifarious,  and  the  laws  which  prevail  in 
determining  the  sequency  among  them  being  so  many> 


144  THE  WOELD   OF  MIND. 

the  separate  objects  present  themselves  in  a  manner 
that  bears  all  the  characteristics  of  sheer  fortuity.  To 
the  mind  it  is  as  if  chance,  in  defiance  of  law,  prevailed 
in  this  department. 

356.  This  eddying  current  of  ideas  runs  parallel 
always  with  the  more  uniform  current  of  sensations, 
coming  in  from  the  real  world  around  us  ;  and  as  these 
are  usually  the  more  potent,  they  turn  it  from  its  track 
and  give  it  a  new  direction,  and  impart  to  it  still  more 
the  aspect  of  fortuity.     And  yet  it  is  from  out  of  this 
ever-shifting  mass  of  disorder  that  the  human  intelli- 
gence obtains  the  most  admirable  products. 

357.  The  animal  mind  in  many,  if  not  in  all  its  low- 
•  er  ranks,  is,  like  the  human  mind,  retentive  of  the  im- 
pressions it  receives  through  the  senses :  this  we  can 
not  doubt.     The  dream  of  the  dog,  which  we  may  al- 
most see  as  we  watch  his  nervous  sleep,  indicates  this 
fact.     So  does  his  faculty,  and  that  of  other  domesti- 
cated animals,  of  acquiring  habits  show  it.      Reten- 
tiveness  of  the  recollection  of  places,  remarkable  as  it 
is  in  some  animals,  can  be  understood  only  on  this 
supposition.     But  in  the  inferior  orders  this  faculty 
of  storing  perceptions  completes   its  purpose  within 
very  narrow  limits,  and  it  fails  to  develop  any  powers 
of  Mind  so  as  to  become  a  source  of  free  energy.     In 
the  human  mind,  at  the   moment  when  this  power 
wakes  up  and  steps  forward  in  its  own  manner,  the 
scene  changes— the  phenomena  of  consciousness  take 
quite  another  character ;  and  that  which  is  fortuitous, 
as  well  as  that  which  is  bound  by  law,  gives  way  to 
that  which  shows  its  relationship  to  a  determinative 
principle. 


HIGHER  AND  LOWER  ORDERS  OF  MIND.    145 

358.  We  can  scarcely  misunderstand  the  purpose 
of  tliis  structure  of  the  human  mind  which  brings  its 
active  rudiment,  or,  we  ought  to  say,  itself  into  con- 
tact with  this  great  store  of  materials,  confusedly  heap- 
ed together  as  they  are.  This  intention  may  be  traced 
in  following  the  progress  of  the  mind  from  its  earliest 
period  until  its  faculties  have  become  consolidated. 


XL 

THE  POINT  OF  DIVERGENCE  OF  THE  HIGHER  AND  THE 
LOWER  ORDERS  OF  MIND. 

359.  THE  human  infant,  from  its  first  days  of  sen- 
tient life,  gives  evidence  that  preparations  are,  in  this 
instance,  making,  not  merely  for  the  development  of 
faculties  of  a  high  order,  but  for  giving  the  greatest 
breadth  to  tlie  field  upon  which  these  faculties  are  to 
come  into  action. 

360.  The  actions  of  the  animal  (inferior  orders)  have 
their  rise  mainly  in  its  instincts,  appetites,  wants,  as 
these  are  related  to  the  objects  present  to  the  senses 
from  one  moment  to  another.     Yet  it  is  not  exclusive- 
ly so ;  for  there  is  a  class  of  actions  which  appear  to 
be  prompted  by  ideas  or  images  furnished  from  what 
may  be  called  the  stores  of  the  brute  imagination. 
The  reality  of  this  species  of  action  may  be  admitted 
as  more  than  probable,  if  not  certain. 

361.  But  not  at  all  questionable  is   it  that,  with 
man,  action  arises  from  this  source  in  a  large  propor- 
tion of  instances ;  and  thus  it  is  that,  while  the  incite- 
ments of  volition  are  greatly  multiplied,  the  energies 

G 


146  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

of  Mind  come  to  take  effect  with  more  freedom  than 
otherwise  they  could  do. 

362.  The  human  infant,  while  under  the  discipline 
of  nature,  and  long  before  maternal  teaching  com- 
mences, yields  itself  to  the  constant  succession  of  sen- 
suous impressions ;  it  is  receiving,  imbibing,  assimilat- 
ing the  greatest  possible  amount  of  sensations :  while 
awake,  this  passive  process  goes  on  without  ceasing ; 
and  during  sleep — if  we  may  so  far  surmise — the  ac- 
cumulated stores  are  turned  over  and  over,  and  are 
commingled  in  endless  modes  of  combination. 

363.  In  proportion  as  infancy  opens  itself  into  child- 
hood, emotions  of  all  kinds  become  more  vivid,  so  that 
this  operation  of  stocking  the  mind  comes  to  be  more 
and  more  an  active  process.     MIND  is  now  waking  up, 
and  scarcely  any  thing  takes  place  within  its  prospect 
with  which  it  does  not  in  some  way  concern  itself. 
Thus  it  is  that  sensuous  ideas,  inasmuch  as  the  ac- 
companying emotion  is  more  vivid,  and  also  because 
the  mind  itself,  at  this  time,  mingles  itself  with  every 
thing,  are  in  themselves  more  and  more  distinct  and 
more  persistent ;  they  claim  more  attention,  and  they 
receive  it. 

364.  Throughout  the  years  of  childhood,  these  im- 
pressions, these  images  or  ideas,  are  tending  to  fall  into 
chronological  order,  and  in  doing  so,  they  give  cohe- 
rence to  the  consciousness  of  personal  identity.     Man 
is  not  man  until  the  moment  when  he  learns  to  look 
upon  himself  from  the  historical  point  of  view.    Wheth- 
er any  analogous  process  lof  individualization  takes 
place  among  the  lower  orders  can  not  be  known ;  yet, 
if  it  does,  probably  it  stops  short  at  a  point  where  it 
is  a  mere  rudiment. 


HIGHER  AND  LOWER  ORDERS  OF  MIND.    147 

365.  Childhood,  in  its  onward  course  toward  matu- 
rity, passes  into  an  intermediate  condition,  the  char- 
acteristic of  which  is  this :  that  the  mind  itself,  or,  if 
we  choose  to  say  so,  its  active  rudiment,  is  much  in 
excess  of  the  appetites,  wants,  desires  of  the  animal 
nature.    Man,  at  this  spring-time,  has  very  much  more 
of  a  vague  impulse  to  act  than  of  any  definite  motive 
for  acting.     This,  however,  is  a  disproportion  which 
continues  only  for  a  brief  period ;  the  equilibrium  is 
soon  restored,  and  the  excess  thenceforward  comes  to 
be  on  the  other  side. 

366.  But  during  this  brief  period,  whatever  may  be 
its  date,  preparations  are  making,  under  the  discipline 
of  nature,  for  the  development  of  MIND  in  man  of  a 
far  deeper  meaning  than  has  any  place  in  the  animal 
orders  around  him.     It  is  now  that  he  is  learning  to 
take  his  position  as  possessor  of  a  freedom  apart  from 
which  there  could  neither  be  intellectual  expansion 
nor  moral  progress. 

367.  Throughout  this  transition-period,  the  conduct, 
or,  as  it  is  conventionally  called,  "the  behavior"  of 
those  who  are  passing  through  it,  stands  open  to  fre- 
quent criticism,  and  to  rebuke  too  on  the  part  of  sen- 
ior minds  ;  for  it  has  become  capricious,  wayward,  in- 
considerate, or,  to  say  all  in  a  word,  "thoughtless." 
But  "thoughtless  behavior"  is  not  good  in  itself;  it 
is  often  in  a  high  degree  inconvenient  or  even  danger- 
ous, and  therefore  it  should  be  brought  under  control. 
And  yet  it  should  not  be  so  criticised  or  be  so  con- 
trolled as  that  the  intentions  of  nature  at  this  moment 
should  be  defeated.     If,  through  an  excess  of  parental 
wisdom,  or  by  overdone  discretion,  nature  is  thwarted 


148  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

at  this  time,  the  after-man  will  be  so  much  the  less 
the  man  as  he  has  been  brought  into  the  condition  of 
a  machine. 

368.  In  the  absence  or  during  the  abeyance  of  pow- 
erful animal  impulses,  and  while  there  is  a  large  sug- 
gestive fund  of  ever-shifting  imaginations,  as  the  in- 
citements  of  volition,  and  an  exuberance  of  energy 
which  must  be  spent,  the  human  mind  is  coming  into 
the  use  of  its  inherent  liberty ;  it  is  tasting  the  enjoy- 
ment of  its  birthright — its  sovereignty  in  relation  to 
motives  of  all  kinds.     Among  these  motives,  whether 
they  may  be  stronger  or  weaker  in  themselves,  it  takes 
its  sport,  refusing  to  be  enthralled  by  any,  and  spurn- 
ing every  despotism :  it  is  learning  to  be  free. 

369.  If  we  can  bring  ourselves  to  think  of  human 
nature  from  a  physical  point  of  view  only,  and  if  we 
simply  consult  consciousness,  and  if,  with  independ- 
ence of  thought,  we  observe  facts,  we  shall  admit,  on 
this  ground,  the  reality  of  the  distinction  which  is 
claimed  on  behalf  of  the  human  mind  when  it  is  brought 
into  comparison  with  the  animal  orders  around  us. 
These  orders,  indeed,  enjoy  a  liberty  which  places  them 
far  in  advance  of  the  ranks  of  vegetative  life,  but  then 
beyond  this  limit  the  human  and  the  animal  mind 
cease  to  run  abreast. 

370.  It  can  only  be  on   some  purely  hypothetic 
ground — perhaps  theological  or  metaphysical,  or  per- 
haps merely  logical— that  this  distinction  will  be  call- 
ed in  question  or  that  it  can  be  denied.     With  such 
grounds  of  exception  we  need  not  now  be  concerned. 
Human  nature  and  the  brute  nature  diverge  at  this 
point,  and  thenceforward  they  are  separated  by  an 
ever- widening  interval. 


HIGHER  AND  LOWER  ORDERS  OF  MIND.   149 

371.  In  those  classes  of  animals  whose  appetites 
are  the  most  vehement  and  peremptory,  volition,  if  it 
be  not  all  of  one  sort,  is  nearly  so,  and  the  same,  al- 
most, may  be  affirmed  of  those  unhappy  beings  in  hu- 
man form  who  have  long  surrendered  themselves  to 
the  tyranny  of  animal  appetites.     But  it  is  far  other- 
wise when  human  nature  expands  itself  under  favora- 
ble conditions,  and  when  culture,  intellectual  and  mor- 
al, comes  in  to  preserve  a  due  equilibrium  among  its 
various  energies. 

372.  In  this  case — and  we  need  not  now  include 
any  ingredients  of  a  religious  kind — in  this  case,  voli- 
tion takes  place  in  more  modes  than  one,  as  thus : 
Sometimes,  and  often  it  is  so,  the  immediate  objects 
to  which  instincts  or  appetites  stand  related  in  the  or- 
der of  nature  are  presented  to  the  senses,  and  they  are 
at  once  pursued  and  possessed.     Sometimes,  and  it  is 
not  seldom,  even  when  the  more  direct  incitement  is 
present,  volition  takes  its  rise,  not  in  this  elementary 
manner,  but  at  the  suggestion  of  some  notion,  or  feel- 
ing, or  idea,  which  has  come  up  at  the  moment — per- 
haps unsought  for ;  most  often  it  arises  in  accordance 
with  a  law  of  habit,  or  as  the  consequence  of  some 
moral  association.      Sometimes,  and  by  no  means  in 
rare  instances,  volition  takes  its  rise,  even  while  strong 
influences  are  full  in  view,  in  a  manner  the  explication 
of  which  must  involve  the  assumption  of  an  hypothe- 
sis of  some  kind. 

373.  We  may  content  ourselves  with  an  a  priori 
hypothesis,  and  give  assent  to  the  metaphysical  con- 
clusion, that  as  every  event  must  have  its  cause — ani- 
mal volitions  included — the  cause  of  a  volition,  in  ev- 


150  THE   WORLD   OP  MIND. 

ery  instance,  is,  and  must  "be,  a  motive  foreign  to  the 
voluntary  power,  or  anterior  to  it ;  and  that,  in  every 
such  instance,  the  strongest  among  several  motives 
then  present  to  the  mind  always  prevails :  it  does,  and 
it  must  prevail,  because,  as  compared  with  any  other 
motive,  it  proves  itself  to  Ibe  the  efficient  one.  To  ob- 
viate any  objections  to  which  this  formal  demonstra- 
tion may  be  liable,  contradicted  as  it  is  by  our  con- 
sciousness, it  may  be  affirmed  that  the  actual  motive, 
in  any  case,  may  be  of  so  attenuated  or  evanescent  a 
kind  as  that  it  is  quite  unperceived  by  ourselves ;  we 
are  either  unconscious  of  its  presence,  or  we  underrate 
its  powers ;  or  perhaps  it  is  of  such  a  kind  that  we 
avert  the  eye  from  it,  and  refuse  to  recognize  it  as  the 
real  reason  of  our  conduct.  Let  it  be  so ;  and,  with- 
out doubt,  there  is  a  large  class  of  volitions  which  owe 
their  rise  to  invisible  influences  of  this  very  kind. 

374.  But  if  consciousness  be  appealed  to — hypothe- 
sis apart — it  will  attest  the  fact  that  there  is  a  class 
of  our  volitions  which  is  not  included  in  those  now 
mentioned.     Whether,  if  we  could  penetrate  to  the 
adytum  of  human  nature,  we  should  find  the  functions 
of  the  mind  to  be  what  metaphysicians  affirm  them  to 
be,  or  not,  yet,  in  fact,  consciousness — in  human  na- 
ture— supports  the  belief  that  there  are  volitions  which 
are  not  peremptorily  swayed  or  are  not  determined  by 
the  stronger  among  motives  ;  there  are  volitions  which, 
in  a  sense  distinctive  of  the  human  mind,  are  free. 

375.  So  long  as  our  consciousness,  exempt  from 
sophistications,  retains  this  belief,  it  constitutes  the 
saving  element  as  well  in  our  intellectual  as  in  the 
moral  constitution.     While  man  believes  himself  to  be 


HIGHER  AND  LOWER  ORDERS  OF  MIND.    151 

possessed  of  a  power  which  is  irrespective  of  the  ab- 
solute sway  of  instincts  and  appetites,  whether  of  a 
lower  or  of  a  higher  order,  and  which  is  superior  to 
them  all,  so  long  does  he  retain  in  his  grasp  the  spring 
of  progress,  advancement,  renovation,  and  every  good 
which  the  limits  of  his  nature  may  "bring  into  his  pros- 
pect of  futurity. 

376.  It  is  a  principle  to  which  we  may,  with  little 
risk,  commit  ourselves,  that  if  A  BELIEF,  whatever  it 
may  be,  takes  its  place  as  a  constituent  among  the 
functions  of  the  intellectual  or  moral  life,  and  if  it  be 
essential  to  their  healthful  exercise,  such  a  belief  is  not 
an  illusion,  but  a  reality.     So  it  is  as  to  our  instinct- 
ive belief  of  the  objective  reality  of  the  external  world, 
and  so,  also,  as  to  the  constancy  of  nature.     The  be- 
lief, instinctive  as  it  is,  of  the  absolute  independence 
of  MIND  in  human  nature,  may,  in  like  manner,  be  as- 
sumed to  be  well  founded,  because  it  is  needed  as  a 
function  of  our  intellectual  as  well  as  moral  nature. 
The  early  developments  of  human  nature  are  manifest 
indications  of  the  place  that  is  to  be  assigned  to  this 
belief  in  the  mature  man. 

377.  Often  does  it  happen  that  the  boy,  full  of  life, 
of  fun,  and  of  folly,  when  he  is  attended  by  his  pet 
friend,  his  dog,  or  his  pony,  may  suffer  a  disadvantage 
in  the  eye  of  severe  wisdom ;  for,  in  truth,  the  quadru- 
ped shows  himself,  on  many  occasions,  to  be  the  more 
discreet  of  the  two,  the  more  considerate,  and  the  more 

.  thoughtful.  ,  But  if  the  intention  of  nature  be  taken 
into  the  account,  the  advantage  will  appear  to  be  im- 
measurably on  the  other  side.  The  quadruped  obeys 
and  follows  the  bare  reason  of  the  case,  so  far  as  that 


152  THE    WOELD   OF   MIND. 

reason  comes  within  his  view ;  the  infant  man  may 
have  a  wider  prospect  of  this  reason,  and  he  may  see 
it  more  clearly,  but  yet  he  spurns  it :  he  asserts  his 
prerogative  to  see  reason  and  to  reject  it.  The  animal 
comes  early  into  possession  of  all  the  truth  and  all  the 
wisdom  of  which  he  can  ever  make  himself  master ;  he 
reaches  it  on  a  straight  path,  and  a  short  one.  But 
man  is  destined  to  acquaint  himself  with  truth  and  wis- 
dom to  an  extent  that  is  incalculable,  and  to  reach  it  on 
a  path  that  is  circuitous  and  devious,  and  upon  which 
he  could  not  set  a  step  hopefully  if,  with  him,  the  law 
of  thought  and  volition  were  peremptory  and  determi- 
native, as  it  is  with  the  brute  orders  around  him. 

378.  It  is  when  we  bring  human  nature,  under  its 
different   aspects,  into   comparison  with  the   natures 
around  us,  that  we  see  how  immeasurably  far  in  ad- 
vance of  them  is  the  position  which  it  occupies.    When 
the  two  orders  of  Mind  are  thus  placed  side  by  side, 
it  becomes  manifest  that  to  the  one  there  belongs  a  de- 
gree and  a  kind  of  power  of  which  the  other  possesses 
barely  a  rudiment. 

379.  Aided  by  this  comparative  method,  we  shall 
the  more  clearly  see  that  while,  as  we  have  already  af- 
firmed (216),  the  liberty  of  the  human  mind  is  the  nec- 
essary condition  of  a  moral  system,  it  is  also,  and  in 
a  not  less  absolute  sense,  the  necessary  condition  of 
intellectual  development,  and  of  those  advancements 
which  raise  the  civilized  man  so  far  above  the  level 
of  man  in  a  savage  state. 


INTELLECTUAL   EMOTIONS   AND   THEIR   RESULTS.    153 


XII. 
INTELLECTUAL   EMOTIONS   AND   THEIR   RESULTS. 

380.  IN  illustration  of  the  intelligence  of  the  animal 
orders,  and  in  proof  of  the  appliant  reasoning  faculty 
that  is  possessed  by  certain  species,  especially  by  the 
elephant,  the  dog,  the  ape,  volumes  of  instances  are  at 
hand.     But  as  to  this  body  of  evidence,  ample  and  va- 
rious as  it  may  be,  as  well  as  curious  and  significant, 
the  whole  of  it  has  the  fragmentary  character  which  we 
designate  by  the  term  anecdote.     These  hundreds  of 
instances  are  all  of  them  single  incidents  in  the  biog- 
raphy of  this  or  that  spaniel,  or  elephant,  or  monkey. 
The  story  begins  and  it  ends  with  the  individual  pet 
that  has  so  signalized  its  wit  or  its  providence. 

381.  But  that  which  we  have  to  appeal  to  in  illus- 
tration of  the  intelligence  of  man  is  not  a  book  of  anec- 
dotes, but  it  is  a  copious  history  ;  it  is  a  history  in  the 
course  of  which,  although  illustrious  individual  minds 
head  the  chapters,  yet  they  always  do  so  as  the  teach- 
ers and  leaders  of  communities  and  nations.     This  his- 
tory, which  dates  its  beginning  from  the  earliest  de- 
velopments of  reason,  is  now  in  mid-course,  and  it  shall 
reach  its  consummation,  if  ever,  in  an  age  that  is  im- 
mensely remote. 

382.  What  we  have  to  seek  for,  therefore,  when,  on 
the  one  hand,  this  volume  of  anecdotes,  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  this  great  history,  are  before  us,  and  are 

G2 


154  THE  WORLD   OF  MIND. 

waiting  to  be  disposed  of,  according  to  the  admitted 
usages  of  scientific  generalization,  is  not  to  show  that 
reason  in  the  brute  orders  and  reason  in  man  are  pow- 
ers generically  different,  which  they  are  not,  but  we 
have  to  discover  what  those  conditions  of  the  reason- 
ing faculty  are  which,  being  present  in  the  one  case 
and  absent  in  the  other,  render  human  reason  a  germ- 
inant  power,  tending  always  toward  products  which 
are  yet  to  be  realized,  while  brute  reason  reaches  its 
end  and  is  spent  in  the  immediate  occasion  which  has 
called  it  forth. 

383.  Brute  reason  is  called  forth  at  the  impulse  of 
some  motive  which  dies  out  at  the  moment  when  its 
single  purpose  has  been  accomplished.    Human  reason 
is  also  called  forth  in  this  same  manner  in  thousands 
of  instances  ;  but,  beside  and  beyond  this,  it  obeys  the 
guidance  of  tranquil  emotions  which,  instead  of  finding 
their  end  in  the  first  occasion,  gather  strength  always 
as  they  go  forward,  and  which  at  length  form  them- 
selves into  habits  of  the  individual  mind,  and  so  ac- 
quire the  force  of  a  prevailing  disposition :  these  emo- 
tions give  direction  to  the  faculties  and  to  the  tastes 
which  they  evoke  and  develop. 

384.  We  have  affirmed,  on  behalf  of  the  inferior  ani- 
mal orders,  that  they  possess  a  pleasurable  conscious- 
ness of  melody,  and  perhaps  of  harmony,  in  sounds, 
and  that  they  have  a  consciousness,  also,  of  beauty  in 
forms  and  colors.     So  much  of  intellectuality  as  may 
be  implied  in  this  sensibility  ought  to  be  allowed  to 
them.     Facts,  the  meaning  of  which  can  scarcely  be 
thought  questionable,  sustain  this  belief;  but  there  are 
no  facts  (or  we  recollect  none)  which  would  indicate 


INTELLECTUAL   EMOTIONS   AND   THEIE   EESULTS.    155 

the  presence  of  that  kind  of  germinant  intellectuality 
of  which  the  infant  man  gives  evidence  almost  from  the 
earliest  days  of  his  becoming  percipient  toward  the 
world  around  him. 

385.  As  soon  as  the  infant  begins,  at  his  own  mo- 
tion, to  amuse  himself,  and  to  create  for  himself  a 
theatre  of  delight  out  of  any  fragments  that  come 
within  his  reach,  he  does  so  in  a  manner  to  which 
nothing  in  the  sports  ot  young  animals  has  the  least 
resemblance,  and  which  may  be  taken  as  a  sure  prog- 
nostic of  that  boundless  intellectual  ambition  which 
will  find  its  limit  nowhere  short  of  the  circuit  of  the 
stellar  universe,  nor  be  content  even  there. 

386.  A  pleasurable  consciousness  toward  the  ob- 
jects, the  forms,  the  colors,  the  movements  of  the 
world  around  us,  may  be  intense,  as   perhaps  with 
some  animals  it  is,  and  yet  it  may  come  and  go,  leav- 
ing no  trace  of  itself  or  any  product.     But  such  a  con- 
sciousness, although  much  less  intense,  yet,  if  it  links 
itself  with  the  reason  or  with  some  moral  sentiment, 
may  become  the  spring  and  beginning  of  interminable 
advancements.     On  this  ground  we  soon  find  our- 
selves diverging  rapidly  from  the  parallel  of  the  ani- 
mal mind. 

387.  The  most  knowing  of  dogs  or  of  elephants  is 
left  far  in  the  rear  on  the  field  of  reason  by  the  human 
infant  that  employs  itself  in  sorting  a  lapful  of  beans 
by  their  colors  or  sizes,  and  is  seen  to  be  arranging 
them  in  lines  and  circles.     The  baby  experimenter, 
lost  as  he  seems  to  the  things  about  him,  has  caught 
hold  of  a  clew  of  abstraction,  or  of  resemblance,  or  of 
contrast,  or  of  analogy,  and,  if  not  now,  yet  in  some 


156  THE  WORLD   OF   MIND. 

time  future  he  will  follow  it  with  ardor,  even  though 
it  lead  him  as  far  as  the  outskirts  of  creation. 

388.  The  human   infant,  with  his  marbles,  or  his 
beans,  or  his  shells,  or  his  petals  of  the  tulip,  or  his 
bits  of  earthenware  spread  out  before  him,  is,  we  have 
said,  so  occupied  in  a  world  of  abstractions  as  to  be 
lost  to  the  things  around  him.     Here,  then,  we  should 
note  the  early  development  of  a  faculty  from  which  all 
other  developments  take  their  rise — the  power,  namely, 
to  take  up  and  to  follow  any  single  line  of  perceptions, 
or  any  single  series  of  ideas,  while  other  simultaneous 
impressions  on  the  senses  are  disregarded  or  are  held 
in  abeyance. 

389.  This  faculty — a  primary  distinction,  as  it  is, 
of  the  human  mind — implies,  first,  but  not  merely  or 
chiefly,  the  power  to  follow  one  series  of  perceptions 
among  several  which  may  be  of  equal  force^  but  for 
attending  to  which  there  may  be  some  especial  motive, 
as  when  we  listen  to  footsteps  in  a  dark  and  stormy 
night,  which  may  be  those  of  an  expected  friend  or  of 
a  dreaded  foe. 

390.  But  beyond  this  discretive  power,  and  of  much 
more  significance,  is  that  which  enables  us  surely  and 
easily  to  take  up  some  one  series  of  sensations  from 
out  of  a  number  that  are  all  equally  intense,  or  are 
nearly  so,  and  in  regard  to  which  no  appreciable  mo- 
tive attaches  to  one  rather  than  to  any  of  the  others. 

391.  The  examples  are  such  as  these :  In  a  concert 
of  many  voices,  the  several  voices  being  of  nearly  equal 
intensity,  regarded  merely  as  organic  impressions  on 
the  auditory  nerve,  we  select  one,  and,  at  will,  we  lift 
it  out,  and  disjoin  it  from  the  general  volume  of  sound; 


INTELLECTUAL  EMOTIONS   AND   THEIE   RESULTS.    157 

we  shut  off  the  other  voices,  five,  ten,  or  more,  and 
follow  this  one  alone.  When  we  have  done  so  for  a 
time,  we  freely  cast  it  off  and  take  up  another.  In 
this  manner  to  listen  discretively  does  not  imply  any 
extraordinary  nicety  of  the  ear  or  any  rare  power  of 
attention.  Thus  it  is  that  a  narrow  line  of  percep- 
tions belonging  to  one  sense  may  be  pursued,  to  the 
exclusion  not  only  of  many  impressions  upon  the  same 
sense,  but  of  many  distracting  impressions  upon  the 
other  senses,  as  of  the  fair  forms  and  gay  colors  of  the 
company  around  us. 

392.  A  like  discretive  power  is  exercised  in  the 
sphere  of  each  of  the  senses ;  thus  it  is  that  the  expe- 
rienced cook  judges  not  only  of  the  "far  too  much," 
but  of  the  "  much  too  little"  of  some  one  ingredient  in 
the  compound  upon  which  the  epicure,  his  master, 
shall  bestow  his  commendation.  So  it  is  in  the  sense 
of  smell,  and  so  of  touch.  As  to  the  muscular  sense, 
it  should  be  considered  as  differing  essentially  from  the 
sense  of  touch.  This  muscular  sense  is,  in  an  eminent 
manner,  discretive ;  for  it  is  able,  among  many  con- 
ceptions as  well  as  among  perceptions,  to  fix  upon  one, 
even  when  the  neighboring  perceptions  differ  from  it 
only  in  the  smallest  degree.  For  instance,  a  practiced 
corn-dealer  takes  in  hand,  at  random,  an  ounce  or  two 
of  wheat,  barley,  oats,  and  closing  his  eyes,  and  pois- 
ing this  indefinite  quantity  a  while  in  his  hand,  he  will 
tell  you  confidently,  and  within  half  a  pound  of  the 
truth,  what  -will  be  the  weight  of  a  bushel  of  the  same 
sample.  In  this  nice  operation  the  mind  is  bringing 
into  comparison  its  recollected  feeling  of  the  weight  of 
a  sample  of  forty  pounds  to  the  bushel,  and  of  forty- 


158  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

one,  and  forty-two,  and  forty-three,  and  forty-four, 
and  forty-five  ;  and  then  it  hypothetically  compares 
the  weight  of  the  quantity  now  in  hand  with  each  of 
these  approximate  remembrances. 

393.  Many  instances,  usually  adduced  in  illustra- 
tion of  the  discretiveness  of  the  visual  organ,  belong 
rather  to  physiology  than  to  the  science  of  Mind,  but 
there  are  others  which  are  quite  proper  to  our  present 
subject.     To  fix  attention  upon  a  single  object  among 
many  that  lie  within  the  field  of  vision  is  no  doubt  an 
act  of  the  mind,  but  it  is  one  of  a  class  which  may  be 
left  to  the  physiologist,  who  will  give  it  a  place  in  his 
chapter  upon  the  eye. 

394.  Technical  habits,  and  technical  faculties  in 
seeing,  such  as  those  of  the  painter,  are  nothing  more 
than  eminent  instances  of  what  the  human  mind,  ge- 
nerically,  is  capable  of  when  much  culture  has  been  be- 
stowed upon  single  powers.     We  take  up,  then,  the 
instance  of  the  educated  and  practiced  artist  (the  term 
is  here  employed  in  its  highest  sense)  in  illustration  of 
certain  powers  of  mind  which  are  distinctive  of  human 
nature. 

395.  Take  such  an  instance  as  this :  To  the  man 
who  is  born  for  the  fine  arts,  whether  painting  or 
sculpture  (and  now  let  us  say  the  former),  many  tran- 
quil and  yet  intensely  pleasurable  emotions  attend  the 
perceptions  of  sight.     These  emotions  find  their  ob- 
jects in  those  three  conditions  of  the  visible  world  un- 
der which  objects  are  pictured^  as  one  blended  sensa- 
tion, upon  the  retina.    These  three  conditions  are  those 
of  form  or  contour,  of  light  and  shade,  and  of  color. 
The  separation  of  the  three  is  an  acquired  or  technical 


INTELLECTUAL   EMOTIONS   AND  THEIR   RESULTS.    159 

ability,  for  undoubtedly  the  three  are  neither  distin- 
guished, nor  are  they  discretively  held  apart,  in  the 
mere  organic  sensations  of  sight. 

396.  But  the  man  who,  first  by  special  endowment 
of  nature,  and  then  by  habit  and  culture,  has  become 
keenly  alive  to  these  three  elements,  finds  it  easy — in 
truth,  he  is  doing  it  perpetually  and  almost  uncon- 
sciously— to  set  off  one  of  these  elements  from  the 
other  two,  and  to  regard  it,  pictorially,  apart  from  the 
others  ;  then  to  dismiss  this  one  and  to  take  up  anoth- 
er, and  so  to  pass  rapidly  from  one  to  the  other,  and 
to  combine  any  two,  rejecting  the  third ;  and  then  to 
bring  together  the  three  in  some  final  combination. 
The  painter,  we  may  suppose,  is  looking  upon  a  group 
of  persons  gayly  attired,  and  assembled  under  full 
sunlight.  In  this  group  there  may  be  forms  that  are 
graceful  and  beautiful  in  the  sense  of  Phidias  or  of 
Raphael ;  there  may  be  forms  that  are  picturesque  and 
full  of  character  in  the  sense  of  Teniers  or  of  Wilkie ; 
then  there  may  be  combinations  of  colors,  rich  and 
deep,  in  the  sense  of  Titian  or  of  Rubens ;  then  there 
may  be  striking  effects  of  light  and  shade  in  the  sense 
of  Rembrandt.  These  very  same  forms,  and  these 
colors,  and  these  lights  and  shadows,  are  falling  alike 
upon  the  eyes  of  all  spectators,  but  it  is  alone  the 
painter's  eye  which  has  learned  to  set  off  element  from 
element,  and  it  is  he  alone  who,  in  successive  moments, 
sees  form  and  outline  as  if  there  were  no  colors,  and 
no  light  or-  shadow,  and  again  sees  color  as  if  there 
were  neither  contours  nor  shadows,  and  yet  again  sees 
light  and  shadow  quite  apart  from  outline  and  from 
color. 


160  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

397.  In  this  instance,  and  it  is  only  one  out  of 
many  that  might  be  adduced  to  illustrate  the  same 
principle,  what  is  noticeable  is  this,  that  the  human 
mind,  at  the  impulse  of  a  certain  class  of  pleasure- 
fraught  sensibilities  or  tastes,  and  under  the  guidance 
of  habitual  emotions  that  are  of  a  tranquil  kind,  exerts 
its  power  of  abstraction  and  of  synthesis  in  and  upon 
the  groundwork  of  its  merely  organic  sensations.    This 
pleasurable  consciousness  is  equable  in  regard  to  the 
diverse  elements  that  may  be  in  view ;  the  mind  is  ex- 
cited, but  it  is  not  swayed  or  determined  ;  its  power  is 
stimulated,  but  it  is  not  constrained  or  necessitated, 
and  it  takes  a  free  course  over  the  field  of  its  ideal 
treasures  and  of  its  perceptions  with  the  most  absolute 
sovereignty. 

398.  That  which  is  characteristic  of  this  class  of 
emotions  is  this,  that  they  are  non-emotional  in  any 
such  manner  as  are  those  which  arise  at  the  impulse 
of  the  appetites,  or  the  social  sentiments,  or  the  irasci- 
ble passions.    They  do,  indeed,  deeply  move  the  mind, 
and  they  call  out  its  latent  faculties,  but  they  do  so 
always  in  a  measured  degree ;  the  force  with  which 
they  act  may  be  intense,  but  it  is  never  impetuous  or 
tumultuous. 

399.  A  vivid  pleasurable  sense  of  resemblance,  and 
of  any  sort  of  symbolic  meaning,  when  it  presents  it- 
self under  and  amid  diversities,  possesses  especially 
this  characteristic  intensity  with  serenity.     Neverthe- 
less, although  it  be  unimpassioned  and  silent,  this  feel- 
ing is  one  of  the  most  productive  of  those  energies 
which  distinguish  human  nature. 

400.  At  a  very  early  age,  a  child  of  vivacious  tern- 


INTELLECTUAL  EMOTIONS  AND  THEIR  RESULTS.  161 

perament  gives  evidence  of  his  sensibility  toward  ob- 
jects of  any  sort  which,  on  the  ground  of,  perhaps,  a 
very  remote  resemblance,  call  up  the  recollection  or 
image  of  some  object  that  is  not  then  present.  A 
stain  upon  the  wall,  a  momentary  form  of  the  clouds, 
or  the  rudest  limnings  of  the  mother's  pencil,  are  hail- 
ed with  glee  when  they  are  looked  at  as  likenesses  of 
a  face,  a  figure,  or  as  the  intended  portraiture  of  a  cow 
or  horse.  No  approach  to  any  such  recognitions,  no 
indication  of  any  such  sensibilities,  are  discoverable  in 
the  actions  or  habits  of  any  species  of  animals.  It  is 
true  that  a  dog  or  a  cat  may,  for  a  moment,  be  deceived 
by  a  picture,  but  never  is  it  attracted  by  a  rude,  an 
imperfect,  or  a  sketch-like  resemblance  of  objects. 

401.  In  these  instances,  full  of  meaning  as  they  are, 
what  is  it  that  takes  place?     Whence  springs  the 
pleasure  which  we  see  to  be  indicated  when  they  oc- 
cur?    It  may  be  well  to  inquire.     Let  the  example 
we  take  in  hand  be  one  of  familiar  experience.     In  a 
woodland  ramble — a  new  walk,  perhaps — we  come  up 
to  the  gnarled  trunk  of  an  oak  which  has  stood  leaf- 
less through  the  summers  of  a  century.     It  seems  to 
bestride  the  path  as  a  giant ;  it  stretches  out  savage 
arms,  as  if  to  forbid  our  advance ;  its  knotted  head  ex- 
hibits some  strange  similitude  of  features — eyes,  nose, 
and  wide-extended  jaws ;  we  gaze  a  moment  in  sur- 
prise, but  the  next  moment  find  a  vivid  pleasure  in 
contemplating  this  wild  caricature  of  humanity.    Time, 
helped  by  the  winds,  and  heats,  and  frosts  of  centuries, 
has  been  the  artist  in  this  case ;  no  knife  or  chisel  has 
touched  the  work. 

402.  In  this  case  we  may  assume  that  there  is  quite 


162  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

enough  of  likeness  to  attract  the  eye  and  to  fix  atten- 
tion, and  yet  there  is  also  an  extreme  unlikeness  in 
every  thing  but  just  this  rude  resemblance  of  form. 
The  resemblance  which  we  recognize  is  that  between 
the  actual  object  now  in  view  and  some  conceptions 
of  gigantic  or  monstrous  humanity,  which  this  form, 
at  the  first  aspect  of  it,  has  evoked.  With  a  sudden 
force,  the  object  before  the  eye  has  awakened  the  con- 
ceptive  faculty;  various  ideals  of  the  human  figure  are 
crowding  up  at  this  summons,  and  we  find  a  pleasure 
in  imputing  each  of  them,  in  its  turn,  to  the  rough 
mass  before  us. 

403.  A  fortuitous   resemblance   of  this    sort  has 
(might  we  not  say  so)  fallen  like  a  spark  upon  the  am- 
ple stores  of  the  conceptive  faculty,  and  these,  rich  and 
various  as  they  may  be,  are  quick  in  furnishing  mate- 
rials for  almost  endless  suppositions,  each  having  its 
meaning,  which  we  impute  to  the  object  before  us. 
The  pleasurable  sense  of  resemblance  and  of  analogy, 
when  once  it  has  been  evolved,  seeks  on  all  sides  for 
its  proper  gratification,  and  it  finds  them  in  abundance. 
An  emotion  of  a  kind  which  is  purely  intellectual,  and 
which,  however  intense,  yet  never  becomes  distracting 
or  turbulent,  and  which  never  induces  exhaustion, 
forms  itself  gradually  into  a  habit  of  the  individual 
mind,  and,  as  such,  it  is  the  prolific  source  of  imagina- 
tive art  and  of  poetry. 

404.  Philosophy — not,  indeed,  the  empirical  knowl- 
edge of  utilities,  but  that  which  is  the  product  of  the 
highest  thought — philosophy  takes  its  rise  from  a  sim- 
ilarly rudimental  class  of  emotions.     Noiseless  they 
are  in  their  earliest  developments,  and  they  are  dis- 


INTELLECTUAL   EMOTIONS  AND   THEIR   RESULTS.    163 

tinguished  always,  even  when  they  have  acquired  a  pre- 
vailing momentum  in  the  character,  by  their  quiescence. 

405.  We  are  accustomed  to  think  of  the  great  men 
who  have  led  the  way  in  philosophy  as  men  gifted  by 
nature  with  pre-eminent  powers  of  reason,  and  of  rea- 
son only ;  but  we  do  not  so  usually  keep  in  view  that 
other  endowment,  apart  from  which  such  powers  would 
have  remained  latent,  namely,  an  intensity  of  those 
emotions  which  we  designate  as  intellectual.     To  the 
man  who  from  the  ranks  raises  himself  to  a  seat  among 
princes,  or  who  becomes  a  prince  among  princes,  we 
attribute  not  only  great  powers  of  mind,  but  a  restless 
ambition,  with  its  cognate  vehement  impulses  and  its 
lawless  passions.     Meanwhile  we  imagine  the  philoso- 
pher to  be  so  constituted  as  that  mere  reason  is  the 
whole  of  his  nature ;  yet,  in  truth,  the  difference  be- 
tween Alexander  and  Aristotle,  between  Cromwell  and 
Newton,  between  Napoleon  and  La  Place,  or  D'Alem- 
bert,  is  not  that  ot  mental  power  with  or  without  emo- 
tional energies,  but  it  is  between  one  species  of  emo- 
tion and  another ;  it  is  between  impetuous  and  stormy 
passions  on  the  one  side,  and  deep  sensibilities  toward 
universal  truth  on  the  other  side.     In  pursuit  of  truth 
there  is  a  steadfast  earnestness,  such  as  may  sustain 
the  severest  labors. 

406.  The  arts  of  life  and  the  applicate  sciences  have 
their  rise  in  the  urgent  necessities  of  our  animal  well- 
being,  but  philosophy  springs  from  a  far  higher  source. 
Practical  science  and  philosophy,  it  is  true,  must  not 
be  disjoined,  for  they  should  minister  one  to  the  other, 
yet  should  they  ever  be  distinguished  as  to  their  ori- 
gin and  as  to  their  true  intention. 


164  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

407.  The  common  phrase,  "the  love  of  truth,"  is 
somewhat  vague,  including,  as  it  does,  moral  senti- 
ments  along  with  intellectual  tendencies   or  tastes. 
What  we  have  just  now  in  view  is  a  feeling  or  im- 
pulse that  is  paramount  in  some  minds,  and  which  has 
no  immediate  bearing  upon  moral  principles  or  dispo- 
sitions.    It  is  the  impulse  to  become  cognizant  of 
whatever  is  true  and  certain  in  the  world  of  causation 
and  in  the  region  of  abstract  relations. 

408.  The  pleasurable  sense  which  already  we  have 
affirmed  to  be  attendant  upon  the  discernment  of  re- 
semblances or  of  symbolic  analogies  is  so  vivid  that  it 
well  sustains  any  labors  that  it  may  prompt  us  to  un- 
dertake for  its  gratification.     But  the  higher  impulse 
which  we  have  now  to  speak  of  wears  a  much  more 
severe  aspect ;  it  is,  indeed,  deep  and  irresistible,  and 
it  abounds  in  fruits  of  enjoyment,  yet  it  is  such  as  will 
be  needed  to  sustain  the  arduous,  and  painful,  and  un- 
requited labors  of  a  self-denying  life. 

409.  The  true  philosophic  passion — if  passion  we 
may  call  that  which  is  unimpassioned — is  a  far  more 
rare  gift  of  nature  than  is  the  sensibility  to  resem- 
blances above  spoken  of;  or  we  should  say  that  it  is 
rare  as  conjoined  with  a  corresponding  vigor  in  the 
reasoning  faculty;  and  it  is  only  when  this  passion 
for  truth  is  conjoined  with  force  in  the  intellect  that  it 
can  become  noticeable. 

410.  Mathematical  science,  concerned  with  the  rela- 
tions of  number  and  extension,  had  its  rise,  as  we  are 
told,  along  with  the  mechanic  arts,  on  the  level  of  the 
immediate  necessities  of  life,  and  at  all  times  has  it 
been  pursued  at  the  instigation  of  various  secondary 


INTELLECTUAL   EMOTIONS  AND  THEIR  RESULTS.    165 

motives,  none  of  which  come  just  now  within  our 
prospect.  But  it  is  certain  that,  if  it  had  listened  to 
no  prompting  of  a  higher  kind  than  this,  it  would  nev- 
er have  stretched  itself  out  so  as  to  embrace,  as  it  now 
does,  the  philosophy  of  the  heavens. 

411.  Mathematical    science,    although    born    and 
nursed  for  a  time  among  the  arts  of  life,  did  not  long 
fail  to  draw  to  itself  a  certain  class  of  minds,  in  the 
view  of  which  its  remoter  revelations — aways  bright 
and  sure — kindled  a  species  of  ardor  which  thencefor- 
ward was  to  rule  the  intellect  and  to  govern  the  life  of 
the  man.     There  is,  perhaps,  no  intensity  of  the  mind 
more  intense,  or  more  exclusive,  or  more  determina- 
tive than  that  which  leads  a  certain  order  of  intellect 
onward,  and  onward  still,  on  the  ascending  path  of 
mathematical  abstraction. 

412.  There  is  good  room  to  ask  whether  the  pecul- 
iar energy  of  what  might  be  called  the  mathematical 
soul  does  not  carry  with  it  a  deep  meaning,  and  declare 
the  truth  of  man's  destination  at  the  first,  and  of  his 
destiny  still  to  take  a  place  and  to  act  a  part  in  a  world 
of  manifested  truth  and  of  eternal  order.     Do  we  ven- 
ture too  far  in  saying  that,  when  mathematical  abstrac- 
tions of  the  higher  sort  take  possession  of  a  vigorous 
reason,  there  is  placed  before  us  a  tacit  recognition 
(one  among  several,  all  carrying  the  same  meaning) 
of  the  fact  that  the  human  mind  is  so  framed  as  to 
find  its  home  nowhere  but  in  a  sphere  within  which 
the  absolute  and  the  unchangeable  shall  stand  reveal- 
ed in  the  view  of  the  finite  intelligence  ? 

413.  This  at  least  is  certain,  that,  on  the  low  levels 
of  this  cloud-girt,  troubled,  care-worn  world,  wherein 


166  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

purposeless  contradictions  and  futile  controversy, 
wherein  strife  and  sophistry,  prejudice  and  folly,  and 
sinister  influences,  mar  so  much  our  comfort  in  the 
pursuit  of  truth,  and  prevent,  so  far,  our  peaceful  fru- 
ition of  it — it  is  certain  that  the  uncontradicted  con- 
clusions and  the  unchanging  realities  of  mathematical 
science  afford  a  rest,  and  a  sense  of  safety,  and  a  ref- 
uge, which  nowhere  else  can  be  found  among  the  things 
of  earth. 

414.  These  recommendations  of  mathematical  phi- 
losophy, which  are  quite  peculiar  to  itself,  bring  to 
view  with  distinctness  the  operation  of  the  Intellectual 
Emotions  in  carrying  the  human  mind  ever  upward 
and  forward  toward  a  stage  of  thought  that  is  immeas- 
urably  remote   from   that   narrow  boundary  within 
which  reasons  of  utility  exert  their  influence. 

415.  A  theorem  demonstrated   is  not   so  much  a 
single  truth  made  good  as  it  is  an  indication  of  truths 
which  are  yet  in  advance  of  itself,  and  which  will  come 
to  take  their  bearing  upon  it.     A  theorem  established 
is  always  a  germinating  principle,  and  its  powers  wait 
to  be  developed  in  the  course  of  the  process  which  is 
to  follow  next  in  logical  order.     A  method  of  reason- 
ing, the  validity  of  which  has  been  proved  by  the  cer- 
tainty of  its  results  in  several  of  its  applications,  is  a 
power  that  has  been  put  into  our  hands,  and  which  we 
must  hasten  to  apply  to  other  purposes.     A  problem 
solved  is  the  guarantee  of  our  success  in  attempting 
the  solution  of  problems  still 'more  difficult,  and  which 
stand  in  front  of  our  present  position. 

416.  It  is  thus  that  mathematical  science  evokes 
and  feeds  the  reason  to  an  extent  that  is  not  easily 


INTELLECTUAL  EMOTIONS   AND   THEIR  EESULTS.    167 

estimated ;  it  does  so  by  quickening  those  emotions 
that  are,  in  the  fullest  sense,  intellectual,  namely,  the 
instinctive  desire  to  know — the  tranquil  acquiescence 
in  what  comes  to  us,  without  a  shadow  of  doubt,  as 
true — the  impatient  desire  to  use  any  power  of  which 
we  have  lately  possessed  ourselves ;  and,  not  least, 
that  deepest  and  most  potent,  that  earliest  born,  and 
last  to  be  relinquished  of  all  our  emotions,  hope,  and 
the  ambition  of  progress. 

417.  So  intense  is  the  force  of  these  purely  intel- 
lectual impulses  when  they  are  called  into  play  by  the 
higher  kinds  of  mathematical  abstraction,  that  they 
avail  to  bear  the  human  reason  aloft  into  a  region  that 
has  no  connection  with  the  wants  or  desires,  real  or 
factitious,  of  our  animal  or  social  well-being.  Keep- 
ing scrupulously  clear  of  exaggeration  on  this  ground, 
let  it  be  recollected  whither  it  is  that  these  same  emo- 
tions, taking  their  effect  in  the  sphere  of  mathematical 
philosophy,  have  now  actually  carried  the  human  mind. 
Aided  by  instruments  which  the  necessities  of  reason 
itself  have  called  into  existence,  man,  in  these  last 
times,  has  well  demonstrated  the  homogeneousness 
of  his  mind  with  the  Supreme  Creative  Mind,  and  he 
has  done  so  on  a  field  not  narrow,  for  it  is  as  wide  as 
the  stellar  universe.  There  can  be  no  irreverence — 
there  can  be  no  presumption  in  plainly  stating  a  fact 
which  rests  upon  evidence  so  clear  and  sure.  Even 
if  this  same  averment  were  made  in  terms  still  stronger 
and  more  comprehensive,  we  need  not  fear  a  rebuke 
on  the  part  of  Christian  piety,  for  what  we  so  affirm 
does  but  illustrate  and  attest  the  Biblical  doctrine 
that  "  God  made  man  in  His  own  image." 


168  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

418.  It  is  not  the  faculty  merely,  or  the  force  of 
reason,  but  it  is  reason  vivified  and  stimulated  by 
emotions  or  desires  of  a  purely  intellectual  order  that 
has  enabled  the  mathematician  to  bring  the  remotest 
futurity  of  the  planetary  system  within  the  range  of 
his  calculations.     It  is  thus  that  man,  whose  individ- 
ual life  is  but  of  a  few  days,  has  come  to  compute  the 
celestial  seons,  and  to  determine  the  moment  when  this 
machinery,  having  at  length  reached  its  limit  of  stable 
equilibrium,  shall  reverse  itself,  and  shall  start  anew 
in  the  recovery  of  its  primaeval  order. 

419.  Intellectual  emotions  that  are  much  the  same 
in  their  elements  take  effect  in  a  somewhat  different 
manner  within  the  region  of  physical  philosophy,  where 
it  is  not  Relation,  but  CAUSATION  of  which  we  are  in 
quest. 

420.  Far  away  from  any  regard  to  the  utilities  of 
common  life,  the  philosophy  of  which  now  we  are  to 
speak  takes   for   its    subject   or   theme    Causation, 
whether  this  be   considered  as  invariable  sequency 
only,  or  be  thought  of  in  a  dynamic  sense,  as  imply- 
ing the  presence  of  an  efficient  power,  proximate  as 
to  the  effect. 

421.  The  desire  to  know,  so  powerful  an  instinct 
as  it  is  of  human  nature,  not  only  prompts  us  to  ac- 
quaint ourselves  with  all  forms  of  the  visible  world, 
and  with  all  varieties  ot  structure  and  function  among 
organized  beings,  but  also  to  become  cognizant  of 
CAUSES.     This  is  a  peculiar  and  a  higher  mode  of  the 
same  instinct,  and  it  is  such  that  it  claims  to  be  con- 
sidered by  itself.     In  some  minds  the  impulse  is  in 
such  a  degree  paramount,  and  it  so  prevails  over  all 


INTELLECTUAL   EMOTIONS   AND   THEIR   RESULTS.    169 

other  motives  as  to  become  the  one  characteristic  of 
the  individual — it  is  the  law  of  his  existence. 

422.  The  desire,  which  amounts  to  an  impatience, 
to  be  cognizant  of  causes,  and  in  which  impulse  phi- 
losophy takes  its  rise,  is  clearly  to  be  traced  up  to 
that  rudiment  of  Mind,  or,  we  may  say,  to  its  own 
nature — to  itself— as  the  first  and  only  cause  of  which 
it  has  any  direct  knowledge. 

423.  Mind  in  its  essence — Power — instinctively  re- 
gards all  things  around  it  in  the  light  in  which  they 
appear  when  seen  from  this  central  point,  which,  in 
an  especial  sense,  is  its  own  point  of  view.     This 
first  element  of  consciousness  gives  rise  to  an  hy- 
pothesis of  causality,  or  a  supposition  of  some  latent 
force  in  every  instance  in  which  a  movement  of  any 
kind,  or  a  change  from  one  condition  to  another,  takes 
place  in  our  view.     And  thus,  too,  even  as  to  those 
forms  or  conditions  of  things  which  are  unchanging, 
or  which  appear  to  be  so,  the  same  feeling  impels  us 
to  regard  them  under  their  historical  aspect,  and  to  go 
back  to  the  moment,  however  remote  it  may  have  been, 
when  they  were  not  what  they  now  are,  but  when  they 
became  such  as  they  now  are  as  the  result  of  an  effi- 
cient cause.     Thus  it  is  that  the  geologist  inquires 
concerning  the  origin  of  primaeval  rocks. 

424.  A  degree  of  restlessness,  or  an  impatience,  or 
feeling  of  perplexity,  which  is  more  or  less  painful, 
ensues  whenever  we  are  baffled,  or  are  brought  to  a 
stand  in  our  endeavors  to   ascertain   causes.     Amid 
feelings  which  thus  far  are  not  pleasurable,  Philosophy 
comes  to  the  birth ;  but  at  an  early  era  after  its  birth 
it  shows  its  assimilative  tendency  toward  the  brighter 

H 


170  THE   WOULD   OF   MIND. 

elements  of  our  nature.  The  pursuit  of  causation 
quickly  becomes  animated,  and  eager,  and  hopeful,  in 
the  sense  of  a  healthful  energy,  the  exercise  of  which 
is  in  the  highest  degree  pleasurable. 

425.  The  philosophy  of  causation,  when  it  is  adopted 
as  the  occupation  of  a  life,  and  when  it  is  pursued  at  the 
impulse  of  that  intellectual  emotion  which  strengthens 
itself  by  indulgence,  sets  the  human  reason  forward 
on  a  course  that  can  have  no  calculable  end.     Indi- 
vidual minds  may  indeed  cease  to  go  on  upon  this 
high  road,  fatigued  by  its  toils ;  and  it  has  happened 
once  and  again  in  the  history  of  nations  that  certain 
races  which  had  been  illustrious  leaders  thereupon 
have  lost  their  zest,  have  forfeited  their  honors,  and 
fallen  from  their  position.     Nevertheless,  new-comers, 
in  an  after  age,  have  set  foot  on  the  same  road ;  nor 
can  we  now  imagine  such  an  event  as  that  the  human 
family  every  where  should  at  any  future  time  sur- 
render, or  should  cease  to  employ  its  prerogative  of 
advancement  on  this  ground. 

426.  The  work  of  classification  in  bringing  multi- 
plicity into  order,  on  the  ground  of  visible  resem- 
blances or  analogies,  is  a  less  rare  development  of  that 
impulse  of  which  physical  philosophy  is  the  product. 
Classification  concerns  itself  only  with  what  is  visible 
and  palpable ;  but  Generalization  takes  little  account 
of  the  exterior,  or  it  never  stops  there:  it  goes  down 
beneath  the  surface  of  things,  and  seizes,  not  resem- 
blances of  figure,  but  identities  of  powers  or  of  laws. 

427.  We  have  already  spoken  (186)  of  the  tenden- 
cy of  the  mind  to  bring  all  things  with  which  it  con- 
cerns itself  into  a  centralized  arrangement  as  related 


INTELLECTUAL   EMOTIONS   AND   THEIR   RESULTS.    171 

to  its  own  faculties.  This  tendency  shows  itself  in 
the  rise  and  the  advances  of  the  higher  philosophy. 
The  ancient  generalizations,  which,  if  they  were  not 
wholly  regardless  of  facts,  yet  dealt  with  the  phenom- 
ena of  nature  in  a  willful  and  arbitrary  manner,  were 
all  so  many  expressions  of  the  centripetal  direction  of 
thought,  resulting  from  the  constitution  of  the  mind. 
Each  of  those  ancient  theories  of  the  universe  which 
finds  its  place  in  a  history  of  philosophy  furnishes  an 
instance  that  might  be  adduced  in  support  of  what  we 
here  affirm.  The  human  mind  not  merely  seeks  to 
relieve  itself  from  distraction  by  means  of  classifica- 
tion, but  also,  and  with  still  more  earnestness,  it  seeks 
to  reduce  causation  to  a  scheme  within  which  all  phe- 
nomena shall  arrange  themselves,  as  if  in  a  radial  man- 
ner, itself  at  the  centre. 

428.  The  revolution  effected  by  the  spread  of  the 
Baconian  philosophy,  so  far  as  that  revolution  ought 
to  be  attributed  to  the  writings  of  Lord  Bacon,  did 
not  contravene  this  tendency  (for  it  would  have  set  us 
wrong  if  it  had),  but  it  stipulated  on  behalf  of  Nature 
that  she  should  ever  be  listened  to  before  the  central- 
izing process  was  set  forward.  Our  modern  philoso- 
phy, therefore,  has  this  merit  as  compared  with  the 
ancient  philosophy,  that  its  generalizations  are  always 
held  open  to  correction  from  facts,  and  thus  it  is  under 
a  continuous  course  of  revision,  the  central  point  of 
human  science  approximating  continually  to  the  true 
and  real  centre  of  the  material  world ;  that  is  to  say, 
the  point  where  all  causes  or  laws  are  converging,  and 
are  resolving  themselves  into  the  fewest  and  the  sim- 
plest principles. 


172  THE  WORLD   OF   MIND. 

429.  As  yet,  our  modern  philosophy  is  far  from 
having  brought  itself  up  to  the  position  that  has  been 
attained  by  mathematical  science.      This  latter  is  a 
sheer  product  of  thought,  and  the  mind  which  has  pro- 
duced it  is  fully  competent  to  dispose  of  all  abstrac- 
tions which  it  is  able  to  note  and  to  symbolize  with- 
out risk  of  error.     But  the  former  has  to  do  with  those 
relations  among  the  properties  of  the  material  world 
which  spring  from  its  hidden  constitution,  and  which 
are,  and  which  probably  must  ever  remain,  unknown. 

430.  Incomplete,  however,  as  is  our  modern  philos- 
ophy, it  will  continue  to  be  filling  up  its  voids  and 
simplifying  its  deductions  from  day  to  day.     It  will 
do  so,  only  supposing  that  the  light  of  knowledge  and 
that  our  civilization  are  not  doomed  to  undergo  ex- 
tinction.     It  will  thus  constantly  advance,  first,  be- 
cause those  intellectual  emotions  which  are  the  spring 
of  the  higher  philosophy  gather  strength,  intensity, 
and  animation  from  every  instance  of  an  achieved  suc- 
cess ;  and,  secondly,  this  progress  may  be  spoken  of 
as  certain,  because  at  length  our  modern  philosophy 
has  cordially  accepted  her  true  position  as  the  inter- 
preter of  Nature,  and  nothing  more.     Human  reason 
has  renounced  its  fallacious  ambition  to  deduce  a  phi- 
losophy from  its  own  resources. 

431.  There  remains,  on  this  ground,  to  be  noticed 
a  class  of  intellectual  emotions  which,  though  they  are 
of  a  somewhat  lower  bearing,  are  of  no  inferior  import- 
ance in  the  economy  of  our  intellectual  existence. 

432.  A  single  phrase  which  should  well  designate 
the  impulses  now  in  view  is  not  easily  found.     But 
in  any  case,  if  a  sufficient  number  of  instances  are  ad- 


INTELLECTUAL   EMOTIONS   AND   THEIR   RESULTS.    173 

duced,  so  as  to  put  out  of  doubt  what  is  intended,  the 
exact  propriety  of  words  and  phrases  will  be  of  minor 
importance.  What  we  are  now  intending  may  be 
spoken  of  as  the  Constructive  Impulse. 

433.  Here  again,  and  in  a  signal  manner,  the  fact 
presents  itself  that  the  primary  incitement  which  the 
human  mind  receives  from  the  stern  necessities  of  an- 
imal life  does  not  stop  when  those  necessities  have 
been  supplied ;  far  beyond  this  point  the  movement 
goes  on,  waking  up  faculties  which,  instead  of  being 
content  with  the  first  successes,  are  thereby  so  much 
the  more  invigorated  and  emboldened,  and  which  shall 
reach  their  boundary  never,  so  long  as  another  step  in 
advance  is  not  plainly  impossible. 

434.  Those  animal  species  that  are  constructive  in 
their  instincts  start  from  a  point  some  way  in  advance 
of  that  at  which  man  makes  his  beginning  as  a  work- 
man, for  they  begin,  if  not  without  tools,  yet  with 
those  tools   only  which  nature  has  bestowed  upon 
them.     Man  finds  himself  almost  utterly  destitute; 
indeed,  he  is  the  most  wretched,  the  most  indigent, 
and  the  most  defenseless  of  all  creatures  until  he  has 
contrived  and  fashioned  a  tool,  or,  rather,  a  set  of  tools. 
His  thumb-furnished  hand — unique  apparatus  though 
it  be — is  not  itself  a  tool,  but  it  is  a  tool-holder,  and 
it  soon  appears  that  the  human  hand  and  the  human 
reason  are  complementary  the  one  of  the  other. 

435.  The  constructive  orders  around  us  not  merely 
start,  as  we  say,  from  an  advanced  position  in  setting 
about  their  day's  work,  but  they  go  straight  forward 
toward  their  end,  losing  no  time,  wasting  no  strength 
in  blunders  or  in  earning  experience  at  a  dear  rate; 


174  THE  WORLD   OF  MIND. 

they  meet  no  vexations  in  attempting  what  they  find 
at  last  to  be  impracticable.  But  then,  when  the  im- 
mediate end  of  animal  labor  is  attained,  when  the  task 
is  completed  "according  to  order,"  nothing  more, noth- 
ing in  the  way  of  experiment,  in  the  hope  of  improve- 
ment, is  ever  attempted.  The  boundary-line  which 
encircles  the  mechanic  and  constructive  ingenuity  of 
the  animal  orders  has  no  parallax ;  it  is  as  fixed  as 
fate. 

436.  And  so — or  very  nearly  so — does  it  seem  to  be 
among  those  degenerate  races  of  the  human  family 
with  whom  the  abstractive  faculty  has  for  many  gen- 
erations been  dormant,  and  among  whom  the  rugged 
necessities  of  savage  life  press  hard,  and  press  con- 
stantly, not  only  upon  the  many,  but  upon  the  special- 
ly endowed  few.     It  is  not  to  be  doubted  that  one  or 
two  of  the  race  of  Bezaleel  and  Aholiab,  and  Tubal- 
Cain  also,  are  born  into  every  tribe  that  prowls  through 
untilled  wildernesses ;   but  then  these  gifted  few  are 
indulged  with  no  reprieves  from  the  penal  conditions 
of  savage  life,  such  as  might  favor  the  expansion  of 
those  intellectual  emotions  which  are  dead  asleep  in 
their  natures. 

437.  It  is  when  these  emotions  are  quickened,  it  is 
when  these  elements  have  received  their  yeast  of  fer- 
mentation, that  the  man — constructive — goes  on  from 
tool-making  and  weapon-making  in  the  rudest  style  to 
machine-making,  first  of  a  rude  kind,  but  at  length  to 
machine-making  of  so  refined  a  sort  that  the  human 
intelligence  comes  to  diffuse  itself  and  to  breathe  its 
own  meaning  into  hard  materials.     All  the  metals  and 
all  the  woods,  all  chemical  matters,  along  with  the 


INTELLECTUAL   EMOTIONS   AND   THEIR   RESULTS.    175 

most  occult  forces  of  the  material  system,  come  to  be 
moulded  into  (might  one  so  say)  dumb  proxies  of  rea- 
son itself,  achieving  tasks  a  thousand  times  more  dif- 
ficult than  any  which  hands  and  limbs  could  attempt. 

438.  It  is  first  at  the  instigation  of  hard  necessity, 
but  it  is  only  just  at  the  first  start  that  man  becomes 
constructive.     Soon,  if  indeed  he  has  entered  upon  the 
course  of  advancement,  he  wakes  up,  and  obeys  that 
purely  intellectual  impulse  which  carries  him  forward, 
never  again  to  stop  until  he  shall  have  worked  up  all 
the  materials  of  nature,  and  shall  have  converted  to 
his  purposes  all  its  powers,  and  shall  quite  fail  to  im- 
agine any  further  possible  adjustment  of  these  that 
might  engage  his  energies. 

439.  Here,  and  once  again,  the  intellectual  emotions 
may  be  traced  to  their  rise  in  that  element  of  Mind 
which  is  its  primary  distinction.     The  human  mind 
follows  mathematical  abstractions  with  so  much  eager- 
ness, because  its  theorems  come  before  it  as  instru- 
ments or  means  for  knowing  more  than  it  yet  knows, 
and  for  doing  more  than  it  has  yet  done.     And  thus, 
too,  Mind,  as  power,  goes  in  quest  of  causation,  for  it 
is  the  knowledge  of  causes  and  of  comprehensive  laws 
which  brings  it  into  a  commanding  position  toward 
the  multiform  phenomena  of  the  material  world.     In 
like  manner,  though  acting  in  a  different  direction, 
Mind,  as  power,  becomes  inventive  and  constructive ; 
and  it  does  so  that  it  may  extend  its  forces  over  the 
greatest  possible  breadth  of  the  material  system,  and 
that  it  may  bring  the  elementary  agencies  of  nature 
under  its  control  and  into  its  service. 

440.  Mind,  vivified  by  its   intellectual   impulses, 


176  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

must  seek  to  know  all  things,  and  it  must  aim  to  do 
all  things,  because  in  its  nature  it  is  a  force  that  has 
no  consciousness  of  limit  or  prohibition.  Just  as  mat- 
ter gains  speed  and  momentum  while  it  is  falling  to- 
ward its  parent  mass,  so  Mind  gains  speed  and  mo- 
mentum every  moment  as  it  is  rising  toward  univer- 
sal truth. 

441.  The  satisfaction  or  acquiescence  which  arises 
from  the  inspection  of  a  complicated  machine  when  its 
adjustments  are  understood  and  when  its  productive 
powers  are  witnessed,  is  vivid  and  of  a  peculiar  kind, 
especially  when  it  is  the  inventor  who  looks  upon  his 
realized  idea.     The  machine,  life-like  as  it  is,  stands 
forth  the  imbodiment  of  his  own  mind :  he  does  not 
regard  it  so  much  as  success  achieved  in  a  difficult  en- 
terprise, nor  does  he  care  to  reckon  upon  it  as  a  source 
of  advantage  to  himself,  for  it  is  far  more — it  is  the 
clear  expression  of  thought ;  it  is  thought  become  pal- 
pable and  visible,  and  made  efficient  for  its  destined 
purposes. 

442.  The  very  contrast  between  the  solidity  of  the 
materials — the  massive  iron,  the  steel,  the  brass — tons, 
perhaps,  of  metal — and  the  reason  which  these  sub- 
stances now  imbody,  this  contrast  enhances  much  the 
pleasure  with  which  the   machine  is   contemplated. 
Vegetable,  and,  much  more,  animal  organizations,  con- 
ceal the  life  which  they  include ;  for  this  life  so  melts 
into  and  so  commingles  itself  with  the  fluids,  the  pulps, 
the  semisolids,  that  the  two  lose  themselves  the  one 
in  the  other ;  the  living  body  is  at  once  soul  and  pal- 
pable substance — it  is  one  being,  apparently  homoge- 
neous in  its  constituents. 


INTELLECTUAL   EMOTIONS   AND  THEIE   RESULTS.    177 

443.  Not  so  the  machine ;  for  in  this  instance  rea- 
son on  the  one  side,  and  the  hardest  and  most  imprac- 
ticable materials  on  the  other  side,  stand  before  us  in 
a  forced  combination,  and  there  is  no  amalgamating 
element  that  should  blend  the  two,  hiding  the  one  in 
the  other.     Of  all  the  modes  in  which  human  reason 
symbolizes  or  gives  expression  to  itself,  a  perfect  ma- 
chine, in  productive  movement,  is  at  once  the  most  ab- 
rupt and  the  most  perfect.     The  despotic  force  of  mind 
as  related  to  matter  speaks  out  in  this  case,  and  sub- 
mits itself  to  no  softenings  of  its  meaning.     The  un- 
instructed  spectator  of  such  a  work  looks  at  the  hard 
material  as  standing  foremost  in  his  view,  while  he 
dimly  descries  the  principle  as  if  it  were  couching 
within  the  intricacies  of  the  structure.     But  the  in- 
structed spectator  sees  in  the  same  mass  the  mind,  the 
reason,  foremost,  and  the  material  in  the  rear ;  he  looks 
at  it  as  a  vanquished  resistance,  which,  after  an  ardu- 
ous struggle,  and  in  the  use  of  much  strategy,  has  been 
taught  its  lesson  of  implicit  and  unfailing  obedience. 
How  arduous  this  struggle  of  Mind  with  hard  matter 
has  been,  those  only  can  well  imagine  who  have  spent 
years  upon  this  field. 

444.  We  have  just  now  said  that  the  human  mind, 
in  following  the  leadings  of  mathematical  abstraction, 
and  again  in  mastering  the  philosophy  of  the  material 
universe,  establishes  the  fact  of  its  homogeneousness 
with  the  Supreme  Creative  Reason.     But  on  the  path 
of  constructive  invention,  man,  who  is  at  once  the  de- 
signer and  the  workman,  finds,  if  he  will  but  see  it,  a 
different  kind  of  evidence  of  the  accordance  of  his  own 
mind  with  the  all-provident  Mind  above  him.     This 

H  2 


178  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

evidence  springs  from  that  copious  and  marvelously 
exact  provision  which  has  been  made,  both  in  the  ele- 
mentary or  chemical  principles  of  the  material  world, 
and  in  that  endless  variety  of  natural  substances  which 
are  required  for  meeting  the  occasion  and  for  surmount- 
ing the  difficulties  incident  to  the  labors  of  mechanical 
invention.  This  is  a  large  subject,  and  to  adduce  in- 
stances would  fill  volumes. 

445.  A  machine  can  not  be  effective — it  will  not  go 
unless  in  its  parts  and  movements  it  is  in  harmony — 
perfectly  so,  as  well  with  mathematical  theorems  as 
with  mechanical  laws.     A  complicated  machine  must 
be  an  expression  of  those  very  same  principles  which 
govern  the  celestial  system ;  it  may  be  called  an  epit- 
ome of  the  mechanism  of  the  heavens.     Such  as  are 
suns  and  planets,  such  as  are  those  binary  systems  of 
the  remotest  sky,  such,  with  a  severe  exactitude  in 
principle,  is.this  machine,  or  it  will  not  work. 

446.  A  structure  of  this  sort  involves  also  a  con- 
formity with  some  among  the  multifarious  properties 
of  all  known  substances.     On  this  ground,  therefore, 
again,  it  is  an  expression  of  that  preordained  harmony 
which  connects  the  finite  mind  with  the  Infinite  Intel- 
ligence. 

447.  This  parallelism  or  co-ordination,  which  thus 
presents  itself  as  existing  between  the  finite  and  the 
infinite  reason,  includes  one  other  element  of  accord- 
ance, but  it  is  one  for  which  we  fail  to  find  an  unex- 
ceptionable form  of  expression.     Yet,  if  due  allowance 
be  made  for  the  imperfection — unavoidable — of  lan- 
guage, then  we  should  say  that  the  material  world, 
with  its  vegetable  and  animal  species,  is  the  expres- 


INTELLECTUAL  EMOTIONS  AND  THEIR  RESULTS.  179 

sion  not  merely  of  perfect  reason  in  its  contrivances, 
nor  merely  of  beneficence  in  its  (apparent)  purpose,  but 
also  of  an  attribute  analogous  to  this  impulse  of  the 
human  mind  of  which  now  we  are  speaking,  namely, 
the  desire  to  imbody  the  conceptions  of  reason  in  act- 
ual organizations,  and  to  see  imbodied  whatever  may 
be  conceived  of  as  possible  and  good. 

448.  This  same  constructive  impulse,  of  which  only 
the  most  obvious  products,  such  as  tools  and  machines, 
have  here  been  mentioned,  shows  its  energy  in  many 
other  departments  of  human  labor.     All  those  social, 
commercial,  and  political  combinations,  all  those  ar- 
rangements for  the  orderly  transaction  of  business,  pri- 
vate or  public,  all  codes  of  law  and  schemes  of  polity, 
by  means  of  which  the  wills  and  the  interests  of  indi- 
vidual men  are  reduced  to  system,  and  are  made  to 
conduce  to  the  greatest  good  of  the  many — all  such  con- 
trivances and  schemes  of  order,  whether  tangible  or  not 
so,  are  instances  coming  under  the  same  general  desig- 
nation as  products  of  the  constructive  faculty  and  the 
constructive  impulse. 

449.  The  mechanical  inventor,  laboring  amid  the 
roar  and  din  of  furnaces  and  forges,  the  Marlborough, 
the  Napoleon,  the  Nelson,  the  Wellington,  laboring 
amid  the  roar  and  din  of  battle,  and  the  legislator  in 
his  closet  or  at  the  council-board,  are  all,  in  their  sev- 
eral spheres,  employing  nearly  the  same  intellectual 
powers,  and  these  powers  vivified  by  nearly  the  same 
intellectual  impulses.     The  differences  which  distin- 
guish them  are  much  less  in  the  elements  than  in  the 
motives,  and  in  those  passions  of  a  secondary  kind 
which  come  to  cluster  around  occupations   so   dis- 
similar. 


180  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

450.  In  this  section  we  have  thus  named  what  ap- 
pear to  be  the  leading  or  the  most  elementary  of  those 
impulses  which,  coming  to  bear  upon  the  human  in- 
tellect, give  it  their  own  direction,  and  impart  to  it  not 
merely  a  never  wearied  activity,  but  a  constantly  ac- 
celerating force. 

451.  What,  then,  is  the  aggregate  product?     An 
answer  in  full  to  this  question  must  be  made  to  em- 
brace every  thing  (short  of  that  which  belongs  to  the 
moral  element  of  human  nature)  that  constitutes  the 
difference  between  the  nations  of  western  Europe  and 
the  aborigines  of  the  Australian  continent. 

452.  But  now,  when  we  come  to  look  into  the  vast 
mass  of  what  might  be  adduced  in  illustration  of  the 
immeasurable  prerogatives  of  civilization,  with  its  arts, 
its  science,  its  philosophy,  and  when  we  trace  these 
great  products  of  Mind  to  their  source  in  the  constant 
elements  of  human  nature,  we  are  confronted  with  the 
perplexing  fact,  brought  to  view  as  it  is  by  the  com- 
parison above  stated,  that  these  elements,  these  in- 
born energies,  give  evidence  of  their  existence  only  in 
what  must  be  regarded  as  exceptive  instances.     Take 
the  human  family — all  races  and  in  all  times — and 
then  the  million  to  a  few  have  lived  and  perished  in 
the  unknowing,  the  unthinking,  the  comfortless,  and 
the  precarious  condition  of  a  savage  or  of  a  semi-bar- 
barous condition,  certainly   destitute  of  science  and 
philosophy. 

453.  This  fact,  putting  out  bl  view  just  now  what- 
ever explications  it  might  admit  of  on  moral  or  theo- 
logical grounds,  demands  some  attention. 


CONTINGENT   DEVELOPMENT   OF   REASON.          181 


XIII. 

CONTINGENT  DEVELOPMENT   OF  THE   INTELLECTUAL 
FACULTIES. 

454.  IT  must  by  no  means  be  imagined  that  man 
lias  achieved  the  great  things  which  he  has  actually 
accomplished  in  science  and  in  art,  as  if  it  were  by 
breaking  over  his  appointed  bounds,  or  as  if  by  an  am- 
bitious violence  done  to  his  nature.     We  must  not 
suppose  that  the  heights  of  philosophy  have  been 
scaled  by  man  in  defiance  of  the  law  of  his  being. 
This  can  not  be  thought ;  but  if  not,  then  we  are  con- 
fronted with  the  fact  that  those  powers  of  mind  which 
are  rudimental  in  human  nature,  and  upon  the  devel- 
opment of  which  the  well-being  of  man  individually 
and  socially  so  much  depends,  are  so  lodged  in  his 
constitution,  or  are  so  conditioned  there,  that  the  prob- 
ability of  their  ever  being  developed  and  coming  into 
act  are,  at  the  best,  only  equal  to  the  contrary  prob- 
ability. 

455.  If,  as  we  have  just  now  said,  the  history  of 
the  human  family,  in  all  times  and  in  all  lands,  were 
to  be  summed  up,  and  a  report  were  to  be  prepared 
which  might  be  received  as  the  statistics  of  intellec- 
tual development,  it  would  thence  appear  that  this  de- 
velopment has  been  the  exception  more  than  the  rule. 
A  development  of  some  one  of  these  faculties   alone 
has  been  less  rare,  but  still  the  slumber  of  all  has 


182  THE   WOKLD    OF   MIND. 

"been,  if  we  reckon  the  human  race  in  the  way  of  a 
census,  the  condition  of  the  many  in  all  times. 

456.  On  this  ground,  then,  the  contrast  "between 
human  nature  and  the  animal  orders  around  us  is 
marked  and  is  extreme,  and  it  is  of  a  kind  which  it 
would  be  unphilosophical  to  dismiss  as  if  it  had  no 
deep  meaning,  or  as  if  it  did  not  indicate,  nay,  con- 
spicuously display  a  fundamental  principle  in  the  struc- 
ture of  the  human  mind. 

457.  Throughout  all  species  in  the  animal  orders 
Mind  invariably  completes  its  intention  ;  it  makes  full 
use  of  its  powers,  neither  more  nor  less ;  and  it  does 
so  with  an  undeviating  regard  to  the  law  of  its  struc- 
ture in  each  species,  and  it  does  so  from  age  to  age, 
unchangeably ;  but  it  is  not  so  with  man. 

458.  To  a  certain  extent,  this  anomalous  condition 
of  the  human  system  may  be  shown  to  conform  itself 
to  law ;  or,  in  other  words,  it  has  its  apparent  reason, 
and  it  justifies  itself  in  the  result  as  affecting  the  wel- 
fare of  the  social  system  at  large,  as  for  instance : 

459.  When  we  bring  into  view  a  civilized  and  a 
cultivated  community,  including  its  several  orders,  the 
under  and  the  upper,  the  more  and  the  less  educated 

—the  laborers  mechanically,  the  laborers  intellectu- 
ally— those  who  command  their  time,  and  those  whose 
time  is  every  day  bartered  for  bread,  then  such  facts 
as  these  are  easily  seen  to  belong  to  the  structure  of 
human  nature,  as  intended  to  undergo,  not  a  solitary, 
but  a  social  development. 

460.  The  first  of  these  obvious  facts  is  this,  that 
the  intellectual  emotions,  and  the  tastes,  and  the  ten- 
dencies which  concrete  about  them,  are  bestowed  by 


CONTINGENT   DEVELOPMENT   OF   EEASON.          183 

nature  upon  the  social  mass  in  far  greater  profusion 
than  are  those  intellectual  faculties  or  powers  of  reason 
which  might  yield  any  appreciable  product.  For  one 
mind  that  is  endowed  as  well  with  the  power  as  with 
the  emotional  taste,  a  hundred  minds,  or  a  thousand, 
or  many  thousands,  possess  the  feeling,  the  sensibil- 
ity, the  communicable  soul  which  bring  them  within 
the  influence  of  this,'  the  gifted  one  in  ten  thousand. 

461.  The  reason  of  this  unequal  distribution  of  the 
feeling  and  of  the  power  it  is  not  difficult  to  find.     The 
product,  the  commodity  that  is  needed  for  the  benefit 
of  the  many;  is  of  a  communicable  kind ;  it  is  what 
may  be  conveyed  and  transmitted,  and  gazed  at,  and 
used,  and  admired,  and  repeated,  and  copied,  and  in- 
definitely diffused.     When  light  is  needed,  it  is  enough 
that  one  flame  should  be  kindled,  which  will  enkindle 
others,  or  will  itself  shine   upon  all.     There  would 
plainly  be  a  waste  if  intellectual  powers  were  as  com- 
mon as  intellectual  tastes,  or  aptitudes  to  use  and  en- 
joy the  products  of  that  power. 

462.  This  unequal  relationship  of  the  faculty  and 
the  aptitude  to  use  and  enjoy  has  this  further  mean- 
ing, that  it  tends  greatly  to  enhance  the  motive  which 
bears  upon  the  minds  of  the  few  gifted  individuals. 
The  gifted  man,  unless  he  be  strangely  anchoretic  in 
his  dispositions,  knows  and  feels  that  in  his  solitude 
he  is  laboring  for  the  many  ;  that  his  excellent  achieve- 
ments will  'be  accepted,  and  prized,  and  used  by  his 
contemporaries,  and  perhaps  even  by  the  men  of  dis- 
tant times.    Here,  then,  a  provision  is  made  for  throw- 
ing in  an  intensity  of  productive  force  upon  the  faculty 
whence  the  needed  product  is  to  arise. 


184  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

463.  Another  fact  which  presents  itself  as  a  law, 
determining  the  unequal  distribution  of  intellectual 
powers  and  tastes,  is  this,  that  those  which  are  the 
most  largely  bestowed  are  of  that  kind  which  are  most 
in  request,  while  the  more  rare  gifts  are  those  which 
may  be  rare  without  detriment  to  the  commonwealth. 

464.  Among  the  various  products  of  reason,  that 
one  kind  which  is  the  most  infallibly  communicable, 
without  chance   of  detriment  or  deduction,  either  in 
quantity  or  in  quality,  is  mathematical  truth.     That 
which  has  been  achieved  (to  look  only  to  modern  times) 
by  Leibnitz  and  Newton,  by  Pascal  and  Euler,  by  La- 
grange  and  La  Place,  has  long  ago  become  the  prop- 
erty, whole  and  entire,  of  the  mathematical  world ; 
nothing  has  been  lost  or  damaged  in  the  transmission 
and  dispersion  of  these  treasures,  any  more  than  the 
solar  beams  are  damaged  when  they  speed  themselves 
onward  daily  from  Asia  to  Europe,  from  Europe  to 
America. 

465.  That  loftiest  order  of  mathematical  intelligence 
which  should  be  spoken  of  as  mathematical  genius,  and 
to  which  it  is  given  to  make  discoveries,  and  to  lead 
the  human  mind  forward  into  an  advanced  position — 
this  high  faculty  is,  perhaps,  the  most  rare  of  all  in- 
tellectual distinctions.     Upon  this  table-land  of  Mind 
the  names  of  those  who,  in  the  course  of  the  thirty 
historic  ages,  have  set  up  their  standard  and  left  their 
monument,  are  not  more  than  six  or  eight. 

466.  Meantime,  enough  of  mathematical  intelligence, 
and  feeling,  and  taste — often  of  a  high,  although  sec- 
ondary order — has  developed  itself  in  all  cultured  na- 
tions.   There  has  been  no  lack,  at  any  time,  of  the  dif- 


CONTINGENT  DEVELOPMENT  OF  REASON.    185 

fusive  medium ;  there  has  been  no  scarcity  of  minds 
thoroughly  accomplished  for  the  labor  of  sustaining, 
and  extending,  and  teaching,  and  applying  the  higher 
truths  in  this  department.  In  this  instance,  then,  we 
do  not  venture  far  in  saying  that  we  see  the  reason  of 
this  unequal  distribution  of  powers  and  faculties ;  we 
seem  here  to  discern  a  law,  and  to  trace  it  in  its  opera- 
tion as  beneficial  to  all. 

467.  On  the  field  of  physical  philosophy  the  lead- 
ing minds — the  discoverers — have  been  more  numer- 
ous.    It  is  not  that  the  products  of  thought  in  this 
region  are  not  communicable  when  once  they  have  been 
fully  realized ;  but  here  there  are  various  departments, 
and  therefore  a  division  of  labor  must  take  place,  both 
on  account  of  the  extent  of  the  tasks  to  be  achieved, 
and  because  these  tasks  are  such  as  demand  peculiar 
tastes  and  faculties  in  those  who  undertake  them. 

468.  Physical  philosophy  is  pursued  on  the  separ- 
ate fields  of  celestial  mechanism,  chemistry,  geology, 
physiology,  both  vegetable  and  animal.    It  will  not  be 
found  that  any  one  mind  stands  first  in  each  of  these 
pursuits.     A  mind  that  grasps  the  whole  is  likely  to 
be  less  eminent  in  discovery  than  in  classification. 
The  man  of  all"  sciences  is  logical  rather  than  explora- 
tive.    Such  was  Lord  Bacon's  function,  and  such  was 
the  position  he  occupied  toward  the  encyclopedia  of 
modern  philosophy — he  indicated  a  method. 

469.  Meqhanical  invention   and   the   multifarious 
products  of  the  constructive  faculty  are  indeed  readily 
communicable,  and  they  soon  become  the  common  prop- 
erty of  nations  ;  therefore  a  highly-gifted  few  might  la- 
bor for  the  benefit  of  all.     But  again,  on  this  ground 


As  to  those  products  01  mine 


of  which  is  wholly  dependent  upon  language — such  as 
poetry,  and  prose  too  of  the  imaginative  or  rhetorical 
order — they,  of  all  its  products,  are  the  most  restricted 
in  their  means  of  transmission.  Poetry  can  never  be 
made  the  property  of  all  nations,  for  it  is  not  translat- 
able. The  world  has  never  yet  seen  a  translated  poem 
or  a  translated  oration,  for  the  best  of  these  attempts 
has  been  such  that  the  poet  or  orator  would  have  died 
of  vexation  if  he  could  have  seen  his  mind  reflected  ill 
such  a  mirror.  Every  people  must  receive  from  its' 
own  sons,  by  the  liberality  of  nature,  its  own  Homer* 
and  Sophocles,  and  Demosthenes ;  its  own  Virgil  and; 
Horace ;  its  own  Dante ;  its  own  Shakspeare  tarn 
Milton  ;  its  own  Goethe ;  and  so,  in  fact,  it  has  always 
been.  Again,  then,  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  law,  and  sec 
it  in  beneficial  operation. 

471.  But  much  less  clearness  attends  our  course 
when  we  go  in  search  of  some  general  principle  be- 
yond this  point.     How  is  it  that  the  human  mind  ac- 
complishes its  destiny  on  the  field  of  reason  only  in  so 
exceptional  and  in  so  precarious  a  manner  ? 

472.  It  is  not  always  true,  even  when  a  community 
has  passed  beyond  the  semi-barbarous  condition,  and 


CONTINGENT   DEVELOPMENT   OF   KEASON.        187 

when  there  has  come  to  exist  within  it  a  class  raised 
above  the  urgent  necessities  of  animal  life,  that  the 
intellectual  faculties  expand  and  develop  themselves 
spontaneously.  Many  nations  have  passed  onward 
through  centuries — they  have  risen,  and  flourished,  and 
disappeared — enjoying,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  fruits 
of  civilization,  and  yet  never  putting  forth,  as  from 
themselves,  the  higher  products  of  philosophy,  or  of 
poetry,  or  of  the  fine  arts. 

473.  Some  very  peculiar  conditions,  attaching  to  the 
physical  temperament  of  the  race — certain  occult  ex- 
cellences in  the  national  stock — seem  to  be  indispens- 
able to  the  development  of  the  higher  faculties.     And 
yet,  when  once  we  have  actually  obtained  the  products 
of  these  faculties  in  philosophy  and  in  art,  they  are 
such  as  may  be  conveyed  to  and  made  available  for 
the  benefit  of  races  that  never  have,  and  probably  never 
could  have,  created  them  for  themselves.     Man,  as  one 
species  all  the  world  over,  proves  himself  to  possess 
powers  of  mind  which,  in  fact,  do  not  expand  except 
under  conditions  the  most  rare. 

474.  Certain  it  is  that  the  intellectual  faculties  in 
human  nature  are  not  developed  in  obedience  to  any 
such  laws  as  those  which  determine  the  exercise  of  the 
constructive  or  other  faculties  in  the  animal  orders. 
Law,  or,  in  other  words,  those  fixed  conditions  under 
which  animal  life  fulfills  its  destiny,  can  not  be  imag- 
ined to  take 'effect  otherwise  than  with  universality  as 
to  each  species  of  animal.     But  with  the  human  spe- 
cies there  is  neither  this  universality  in  the  operation 
of  any  such  laws,  nor  is  there  any  uniformity  in  the 
products  when  these  actually  appear. 


188  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

475.  When  we  speak  of  the  constant  and  uniform 
development  of  reason  in  the  animal  orders  as  exhibit- 
ed in  their  constructive  labors  especially,  we  must  in- 
tend this — that  the  intellectual  volition  follows  in  a 
track  that  is  marked  out  for  it  by  nature :  the  animal 
structure  is  such  that,  in  given  circumstances,  the  vo- 
litions will  be  invariably  such  and  such.     The  uni- 
versality and  the  uniformity  of  these  products  indicate, 
or  we  might  say  demonstrate,  the  presence  and  the  un- 
failing constancy  of  the  laws  which  rule  the  animal 
mind. 

476.  Shall  we  then  be  warranted  in  affirming  the 
converse  conclusion,  which  is  this,  that,  where  there  is 
neither  universality  nor  uniformity  in  the  development 
of  reason,  there  is  present  no  law  or  no  determinative 
influence  to  which  reason  is  subjected  ?     Are  we  safe 
in  assuming,  on  the  ground  of  these  anomalous  facts, 
that  reason  in  the  individual  man  follows  no  direction 
from  any  source  that  is  anterior  to  itself?     In  other 
terms,  our  hypothetic  conclusion  would  be  this :  that 
the  human  mind  gives  law  to  itself ;  that  it  is  its  only 
law ;  arid  that,  as  to  the  exercise  of  its  highest  facul- 
ties, it  is  absolutely  initiative. 

477.  Abstaining  from  a  positive  assumption  of  this 
hypothesis  as  if  it  were  a  demonstrated  truth,  we  take 
rather  the  safer  course  of  following  reason  some  way 
into  its  recesses,  and  of  noting  the  mode  of  its  proced- 
ure in  certain  definite  instances.     Among  these  in- 
stances, the  one  which  is  the  most  easily  followed  is 
that  which  has  place  when  an  interaction  is  going  on 
between  the  intellectual  faculties  and  the  instrument  or 
engine  of  all  mental  operations,  namely,  LANGUAGE. 


LANGUAGE  AS  RELATED  TO  MENTAL  OPERATIONS.    189 


XIV. 

LANGUAGE   AS   EELATED   TO   MENTAL    OPERATIONS. 

478.  THE  primary  purpose  of  language  as  the  means 
of  communication — mind  with  mind — subserves  a  pur- 
pose scarcely  less  important  in  the  development  of  the 
intellect  when  it  is  employed  as  the  instrument  of 
thought  "by  the  individual  reason.      Single  words,  and 
certain    constant   and   conventional   combinations   of 
them,  are  the  tools  of  thought,  and  without  the  aid  of 
these  its  processes  must  stop  short  at  a  rudimental 
stage. 

479.  In  relation  to  different  intellectual  processes 
language  is  a  more  or  a  less  indispensable  instrument. 
It  yields  also  an  aid  more  or  less  necessary  to  differ- 
ent minds,  according  to  their  original  structure,  to 
their  abstractive  power,  and  to  the  extent  of  culture 
they  may  have  received.    But  there  are  certain  opera- 
tions (as  we  shall  see),  in  carrying  forward  which  it 
can    scarcely  be    imagined  that   even    the   strongest 
minds,  advantaged  by  the   most  perfect    discipline, 
could  dispense  with  this  assistance,  or  could  think  to 
any  good  purpose  otherwise   than   as   leaning,  from 
step  to  step,  upon  words — phrases — propositions. 

480.  Language,  to  become  fully  available  for  these 
purposes,  must  be  held  at  command  under  conditions 
which  should  be  understood.     The  mind,  while  em- 
ploying this,  its  instrument,  must  have  set  itself  free,  in 


190  THE    WORLD   OF   MIND. 

some  degree,  from  the  thraldom  of  words  and  phrases. 
This  emancipation  takes  place,  to  some  extent,  in  the 
course  of  the  most  ordinary  education,  but  in  the  full- 
est manner  only  when  culture  has  been  carried  for- 
ward into  adult  years,  or  otherwise  in  rare  instances 
of  native  powers  of  mind  of  a  high  order. 

481.  Soon  after  its  awakening  in  the  midst  of  a 
world  of  objects,  pressing  upon  it  through  the  senses, 
the  human  infant,  while  listening  to  the  voices  that 
soothe  or  that  startle  the  ear,  is  yielding  itself  to  a 
process,  in  the  course  of  which  the  world  of  words 
comes  to  adhere,  point  after  point,  to  the  world  of  ob- 
jects ;   and  these  adhesions,  multiplying  every  day, 
and  becoming  more  and  more  firm  or  indissoluble,  are 
at  length  so  thoroughly  riveted  or  welded  that  the 
union  could  scarcely  be  more  intimate  if,  in  fact,  the 
mother  tongue  were  born  with  the  mind  itself.     If  the 
human  family  had  known  only  one  language,  it  would 
scarcely  have  been  possible  for  us  to  entertain  the  sup- 
position that  words  are  nothing  more  than  arbitrary 
signs,  and  that  they  might  therefore  have  been  other 
than  they  are. 

482.  In  fact,  millions  of  men  pass  through  their 
destined  course  of  years  with  no  other  consciousness 
than  this.     Thought  and  language  have  never  been 
sundered,  in  all  their  experience,  from  infancy  to  age. 
So  much  intellectual  action  as  may  consist  with  this 
fixity  is  possible  to  minds  thus  conditioned,  but  not 
more.     It  is  the  function  of  education  to  break  up,  in 
a  greater  or  less  degree,  this  rude  congestion,  and  to 
give  to  the  mind  its  proper  supremacy  in  relation  to 
its  implements. 


LANGUAGE  AS  RELATED  TO  MENTAL  OPERATIONS.    191 

483.  The  teacher  makes  a  commencement  in  this 
process  when  he  finds  occasion  to  revise  the  child's 
glossary,  substituting  one  term  for  another  wherever  a 
faulty  fitting  has  taken  place  as  to  the  meaning  of 
words.     The  child,  by  an  unconscious  inductive  proc- 
ess, carries  forward  this  corrective  operation  for  him- 
self while  he  listens  to  the  promiscuous  conversation 
of  adults.     His  alert  curiosity  not  only  brings  him 
into  possession  of  a  stock  of  convertible  terms — syn- 
onyms, equivalents,  and  metonymic  phrases — but  it 
leads  him  to  loosen  himself  off  a  little  from  that  inti- 
mate blending  of  words  and  ideas  which  had  taken 
place  at  the  first. 

484.  The  acquisition  and  the  actual  use  of  one  or 
more  languages  beside  the  vernacular  greatly  accelerates 
the  process  of  liberation,  as  does  also  an  initiation  in 
those  abstract  sciences  which  demand  a  laying  aside, 
for  a  time,  the  colloquial  sense  of  language,  and  the 
taking  up  an  artificial,  or  technical  sense.     By  means 
such  as  these,  that  fixity  of  the  connection  between 
words  and  ideas  is  loosened,  which  is  the  impractica- 
ble condition  of  minds  among  the  uneducated  classes. 

485.  And  yet  culture  may  go  very  far,  and  still  it 
may  leave  the  mind  under  thraldom,  if  not  to  words 
taken  singly,  yet  to  a  mass  of  conventional  and  cus- 
tomary combinations  of  them.     It  is  so  especially  with 
those  minds  that  may  be  designated  as  the  logical  or 
formulative.    Persons  of  this  class  think  only  by  sen- 
tences or  by  clusters  of  words.     It  is  less,  or  scarcely 
at  all  so,  with  those  that  are  at  once  analytic  and  syn- 
thetic, inventive  and  creative.     If  words  are  the  tools 
of  thought,  the  same  may  be  said  of  them  as  of  those 


192  THE   WOULD   OF   MIND. 

implements  which  are  wielded  by  the  hand.  The  un- 
varied use,  year  after  year,  of  certain  implements  of 
the  mechanic  arts  so  becomes  a  second  nature  to  the 
artisan  that  there  is  room  for  the  question,  Which  of 
the  two  is  really  the  master,  the  workman  or  his  tool  ? 
the  hand  and  arm  obey  the  tool  as  much  as  this  obeys 
the  muscular  force. 

486.  A  very  large  proportion  of  all  ordinary  dis- 
course, public  and  private,  follows  in  the  track  of  con- 
ventional forms,  which  are  scarcely  less  determinative 
as  to  the  movements  of  thought  than  are  the  rails  to 
the  course  of  the  train  which  speeds  itself  upon  them 
with  more  of  the  appearance  of  spontaneous  force  than 
of  its  reality,  and  yet  this  despotism  of  conventional 
speech  is  not  to  be  complained  of,  for  by  the  means  of 
it  the  social  system  holds  its  onward  course  with  a 
steady  momentum,  and  it  avoids  the  peril  of  a  road 
which  otherwise  it  might  choose  for  itself.     Certain 
utterances,  as  well  of  feeling  as   of  opinion,  are  (to 
change  the  figure)  stereotyped,  and  by  means  of  these 
accredited  forms  a  tacit  censorship  is  brought  to  bear 
upon  society,  much  to  its  advantage.     The  individual 
man,  when  he  accepts  the  aid  of  certain  modes  of  par- 
lance, yields  himself  unconsciously  to  a  process  of  re- 
vision which  retrenches  much  and  amends  much  that 
might  offend  all  ears  if  uttered  in  its  native  form. 

487.  Thus  far  Mind  and  its  implement,  language, 
exercise  a  divided  empire,  or  they  rule  the  man  in  al- 
ternating moments.     But  the  development  of  the  hu- 
man faculties  upon  higher  ground  can  take  place  only 
when  the  rightful  supremacy  of  the  one  and  the  due 
subserviency  of  the  other  of  these  two  powers  has 


LANGUAGE  AS  BELATED  TO  MENTAL  OPERATIONS.  193 

been  firmly  established,  and  has  become  the  habit  of 
the  reason. 

488.  In  listening — so  far  as  it  may  indeed  be  pos- 
sible to  listen  in  such  cases — to  the  extemporaneous 
discourse  of  public  speakers,  to  whom  exercises  of  this 
sort  have  become  only  too  easy,  one  may  follow  the 
"  law  of  thought"  from  the  end  of  one  sentence  to  the 
beginning  of  the  next,  and  from  the  closing  sentence 
of  one  paragraph  to  the  initial  sentence  of  another,  and 
one  may  clearly  discern  what  that  principle  of  sequen- 
cy  is  which  gives  law  to  the  speaker's  mind  as  he 
glides  along  upon  the  worn  tram-road  of  accustomed 
utterances.     Exercises  of  this  sort  might  well  enough 
be  adduced  in  illustration  of  the  doctrine  that  a  "  law 
of  suggestion"  of  some  kind  rules  supreme  in  the  world 
of  Mind. 

489.  But  let  it  be  supposed  that  a  speaker's  course 
of  thought  is  suddenly  influenced  by  some  cross  cur- 
rent, or  by  some  incidental  motive  which  comes  to 
combine  itself  with,  and  to  give  a  varied  character  to 
the  discourse.     In  this  case  there  is  before  us  a  much 
more  complicated  phenomenon.     The  mind,  subject, 
as  it  is  assumed  to  be,  to  its  customary  "law  of  as- 
sociation," is  here  seen  to  be  serving  two  masters ;  it 
is  pulled  forward,  now  by  the  right-hand  force,  now  by 
the  left-hand,  and  yet  it  contrives  to  hold  on  its  way 
between  the  two. 

490.  That  it  should  be  able  to  do  so  is  perhaps 
conceivable,  for  such  is  the  velocity  of  our  mental  op- 
erations that  we  may  suppose  even  an  ordinary  mind 
to  be  capable  of  this  rapid  alternation  between  two 
distinct  courses  of  thought,  and  yet  that  it  should  be 

I 


194  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

able  also  to  preserve  some  coherence,  and  to  give  con- 
sistency to  both  in  its  flow  of  language. 

491.  There  are,  however,  products  of  the  human  in- 
tellect of  a  far  more  complicated  order  than  those  we 
have  now  been  supposing,  and  to  which  it  is  exceed- 
ingly difficult — granting  it  to  be  possible — to  apply  a 
suggestive  theory  of  any  kind.     In  yielding  itself  to  a 
law  of  suggestion,  or  to  two  or  three  such  laws,  run- 
ning on  parallel  to  each  other,  it  either  obeys  these 
influences  according  to  their  relative  forces,  or  itself 
rules  them :  the  ultimate  product  is  either,  mathemat- 
ically, such  as  the  two  suggestions  make  it,  or  it  is 
such  as  these  make  it,  controlled,  not  by  another  sug- 
gestion, but  by  the  Mind — uncontrolled,  and  in  act  a 
law  to  itself. 

492.  Whatever  may  be  the  instances  which  we 
should  adduce  in  support  of  an  hypothesis  that  might 
seem  to  be  applicable  to  the  problem  before  us,  they 
ought  to  be  relied  upon  always  with  a  degree  of  re- 
serve as  being  in  some  sense  ambiguous ;  for,  when- 
ever a  question  arises  concerning  the  existence  or  the 
non-existence  of  an  elementary  principle  or  a  primary 
fact  in  nature,  we  surrender  the  very  ground  on  which 
we  wish  to  establish  our  theory  if  we  go  about  to  make 
it  good  by  a  course  of  logical  reasoning.     This  rule 
has  already  been  insisted  upon.     Instances  brought 
forward  in  illustration  of  any  such  hypothesis  should 
be  appealed  to  only  for  the  purpose  of  showing  that, 
if  we  grant  this  hypothesis^  then  such  and  such  facts 
become  more  intelligible  than  they  can  be  in  reject- 
ing it. 

493.  Let  it  be  that  we  are  held  to  a  dilemma  of 


LANGUAGE  AS  EELATED  TO  MENTAL  OPERATIONS.   195 

this  sort — we  must  accept  an  inconceivable  supposi- 
tion of  one  kind,  or  we  must  yield  assent  to  an  incon- 
ceivable supposition  of  another  kind  ;  the  difference 
between  the  two  being  this,  that  the  one  accords  with 
our  consciousness,  while  the  other  contradicts  it. 

494.  Among  the  highest  products  of  the  human 
mind,  those  must  take  a  foremost  place  in  which  sev- 
eral elements,  each  governed  by  its  own  law,  each  hav- 
ing its  own  conditions,  are  so  combined  as  to  yield  a 
uniform,  symmetrical,  and  congruous  result — a  result 
in  which  no  violence  has  been  done  to  any  propriety, 
and  in  which  nothing  is  redundant,  nothing  is  want- 
ing.    A  product  which  actually  satisfies  these  condi- 
tions, difficult  as  they  are,  may  safely  be  adduced  as 
an  exemplification  of  the  structure  and  functions  of 
Mind,  or  as  a  proof  of  what  it  is  capable  of  when  put- 
ting forth  its  powers  at  the  best. 

495.  Products  of  the  human  mind  may  be  regarded 
as  admirable  either  absolutely  in  themselves,  or  con- 
sidered in  relation  to  the  peculiar  circumstances  under 
which  they  may  have  appeared.     A  labored  oration  is 
what  it  is  after  the  toils  of  weeks  and  the  hours  of 
many  nights   have  given  it  the  faultless  perfection 
which  at  length  it  exhibits  ;  or  an  oration — and  per- 
haps it  is  not  inferior  to  this  first — may  have  burst 
from  the  speaker  at  the  moment,  and  under  the  inspi- 
ration of  some  extraordinary  occasion.     In  this  latter 
case  it  would  surely  seem  to  deserve  a  higher  praise 
than  in  the  former. 

496.  In  such  an  imagined  instance  of  extemporane- 
ous eloquence,  the  orator — at  the  bar  or  in  the  senate 
— brings  up  to  the  occasion  first  his  main  purpose  or 


196  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

his  political  or  legal  doctrine ;  then  he  brings  his  own 
habituated  flow  of  language — his  style  and  manner ; 
then  he  brings  his  copious  treasure  of  images,  analo- 
gies, tropes,  and  figures — a  never  exhausted  stock. 
With  all  these  various  materials  in  hand,  we  may  sup- 
pose that  he  is  able  to  make  them  available  from  in- 
stant to  instant,  as  he  goes  on ;  and  they  are  thus 
available — let  us  grant  it — because  certain  laws  of 
suggestion,  which  are  already  familiar  to  him,  and  are 
prompt  to  present  themselves,  bring  forward  the  very 
article  which  best  fits  the  occasion,  each  kind  taking 
its  turn,  and  each  giving  place  to  another,  when  it 
ought,  with  electric  rapidity. 

497.  But  now,  while  this  evolution  of  commingled 
thought  is  in  full  flow,  an  incident — unlocked  for — • 
such  as  the  suddenly  manifested  feeling  of  those  whom 
he  is  addressing,  and  whose  concurrence  he  is  labor- 
ing to  secure,  induces  the  speaker,  in  a  moment,  to 
shift  his  ground  of  argument,  to  modify  his  doctrine, 
and  to  divert  from  his  first  purpose  and  to  aim  at  any 
other. 

498.  At  this  critical  moment,  then,  there  comes  to 
bear  upon  the  mind  a  new  law  of  suggestion — a  train 
of  ideas  not  at  first  included  in  the  fabric  of  thought, 
and  this  must  now  be  combined  with  it ;  yet  it  must 
so  be  done  as  to  avoid  abruptness  or  the  appearance 
of  incoherence.     The  then-present  trains  of  thought 
must  be  severally  seized  anew,  and  must  be  trimmed 
and  adjusted,  and  the  fabric1  must  offer  to  the  admiring 
eyes  of  those  around  a  new  pattern,  a  new  color,  and, 
nevertheless,  it  must  be  a  perfect  work. 

499.  The  achievement  of  a  task  so  arduous  as  this 


LANGUAGE  AS  RELATED  TO  MENTAL  OPERATIONS.  197 

(and  to  achieve  it  with  brilliant  success)  seems  to  de- 
mand these  two  conditions,  and  the  one  of  them  as  in- 
dispensably needed  as  the  other.  The  first  is  this  : 
that  copious  and  various  materials  should  so  range 
themselves  within  prospect  of  the  mind  as  to  be  avail- 
able at  the  instant  when  they  are  needed ;  the  second 
condition  is  this  :  that  a  disposing  power  superior  to 
these  materials,  and  restricted  by  no  conditions,  and 
shackled  by  no  laws  of  sequency,  shall  hold  the  cen- 
tral place,  while  it  freely  gives  law  to  all. 

500.  Yet  may  not  this  hypothetic  supremacy  be 
itself  resolvable  into  another  law  of  a  higher  order, 
which  comes  in  to  take  effect  over  the  head  of  all  oth- 
ers?    This  may  be  imagined  as  possible,  though  it 
be  at  variance  with  our  consciousness  of  intellectual 
action. 

501.  We  turn  to  another  instance,  and  it  shall  be 
one  that  is  familiar  to  every  English  reader.     Let  it 
be  the. "Elegy  written  in  a  Country  Church-yard." 
In  this  highly-finished  production  three  separate  ele- 
ments are  combined  in  one  harmonious  result,  and  they 
are  so  combined  and  so  perfectly  blended  as  that  each, 
in  turn,  might  be  regarded  as  the  chief,  or  the  sole 
purpose  that  had  been  in  the  poet's  view,  and  to  which 
he  had  subordinated  the  other  two.     Each  is  precise- 
ly what  it  should  be  irrespectively  of  the  others  ;  each 
is  as  if  it  were  principal,  and  each  is  as  if  it  were  sub- 
sidiary. 

502.  In  this  Elegy  there  is,  first,  a  deep  moral  in- 
tention ;  there  is  the  doctrine  of  human  life  in  its  som- 
bre aspect,  and  such  as  it  shows  itself  to  be,  not  in 
king's  palaces,  but  in  a  rural  church-yard.     The  sec- 


198  THE   WOKLD   OF   MIND. 

ond  of  these  elements,  every  where  present,  and  sub- 
sidiary to  the  principal  intention,  and  yet  independent 
of  it,  is  a  delicious  series  of  images — pictures — drawn 
from  the  purest  and  most  agreeable  sources,  and  each 
presented  in  the  purple  light — the  subdued  splendor 
of  the  poet's  own  brilliant  and  chastened  fancy.  The 
third  of  these  elements,  again  subservient  to  the  first 
and  to  the  second,  and  yet  governed  in  the  most  abso- 
lute manner  by  its  own  laws,  is  the  faultless  rhythm 
of  the  composition — its  soft  cadences — the  music  of 
its  highly  artificial  collocation  of  syllables.  The  verse 
is  as  if  it  were  allowed  to  be  master  of  the  sense  and 
soul  of  the  poetry ;  the  imagery  is  as  if  the  poet's  only 
aim  had  been  to  yield  a  luxurious  hour  to  the  intel- 
lectual voluptuary  ;  the  moral  is  such  as  the  preacher 
would  willingly  make  his  own,  and  render  into  his  dry 
didactic  style. 

503.  Nevertheless,  this  Elegy  is  not  an  alternation 
of  verse,  and  of  imagery,  and  of  doctrine,  for  it  is, 
throughout,  one  product ;  every  where,  and  in  each  line 
apart,  it  is  true  to  the  requirements  of  each  of  its  con- 
stituent principles. 

504.  The  characteristic  of  a  production  of  this  or- 
der is  this,  that  it  contains  no  instances  of  an  ill-man- 
aged compromise  either  of  the  sense  to  the  sound,  or 
of  the  sound  to  the  sense ;  there  is  no  putting  in  of 
images  which  subserve  no  purpose  but  that  of  decora- 
tion.    On  the  contrary,  an  artist  of  inferior  ability 
quickly  betrays  his  want  of4  skill  and  the  low  rate  of 
his  disposing  power:  his  materials  kick  against  his 
main  intention ;  the  moral  gives  way  to  the  obduracy 
of  the  versification ;  and  often  the  humiliating  fact  ob- 


LANGUAGE  AS  RELATED  TO  MENTAL  OPERATIONS.  199 

trudes  itself,  that  a  mere  rhyme  has  been  allowed  to 
override  the  versifier's  serious  purpose,  or  to  drive  him 
from  his  ground. 

505.  The  function  of  Language,  when  a  composi- 
tion such  as  the  above  is  referred  to  is  evolving  itself 
from  the  poet's  mind,  is  to  hold  all  the  materials  in  so- 
lution.    Language,  with  the  entireness  of  its  treasures, 
constitutes  the  medium — we  may  say,  the  fluid  mass 
within  which  all  materials  are  brought  forward  to  be 
judged  of,  and  within  which  the  indication  of  thought 
may  freely  take  place  and  may  be  gradually  advanced 
until  the  last  requirements  of  a  fastidious  taste  have 
been  satisfied.     The  poet's  intellectual  culture  has  at 
once  brought  all  the  funds  of  his  native  language  be- 
fore him,  and  it  has  also  set  him  free  from  the  fixity 
of  words  in  their  connection  with  ideas  or  feelings. 
He  has  its  wealth  at  his  command,  and  he  has  a  per- 
fect mastery  over  it. 

506.  A  copious  and  highly  elaborated  language  may 
thus  be  regarded  as  the  means  or  the  field  of  that 
sovereignty  which  we  are  assuming  to  be  the  distinc- 
tion of  the  human  mind,  and  apart  from  which  no 
products  beyond  the  merest  rudiments  do  in  fact  ever 
appear.     Laws  of  association  or  suggestion  avail  in 
any  process  which  runs  upon  a  single  line,  but  they 
can  avail  little  or  nothing  when  several  of  these  lines 
of  suggestion,  independent  one  of  the  other,  are  to  be 
wrought  into  a  tissue  that  shall  be  uniform,  homoge- 
neous, and  coherent. 

507.  On  a  dead  level  as  to  its  social  and  political 
condition,  a  people  may  make  good  progress  in  the 
arts  of  life  and  in  the  exterior  things  of  civilization ;  ( 


200  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

that  is,  it  may  advance  so  far  as  it  may  go  under  the 
guidance  of  rudimental  laws  of  intellectual  action — 
laws  of  suggestion.  But  with  a  people  that  is  thus 
in  thraldom  under  the  passive  principles  of  the  mental 
constitution,  the  sciences  are  only  empirical  arts  ;  phi- 
losophy is  a  fantastic  chimera ;  art  is  monstrous ;  re- 
ligion is  a  myth,  and  a  means  of  despotism  to  a  few; 
the  polity  of  the  people  is  such  an  organization  of  the 
mass  as  forbids  individual  development.  Such  a  com- 
munity may  be  believed  to  have  attained  its  highest 
condition  in  a  remote  time,  history  does  not  tell  us 
how  or  when ;  and  as  to  its  after-periods,  history  has 
allotted  no  pages  to  its  memorials. 

508.  Whether  it  is  a  race  that  has  created  its  lan- 
guage, or  the  language  the  race,  is  a  problem  toward 
the  solution  of  which  little  progress  has  hitherto  been 
made ;  nor  does  it  belong  to  our  subject.     But  this  is 
certain,  that,  apart  from  a  language  which  is  at  once 
copious  and  plastic,  and  abundant  in  abstractions,  the 
thinking  of  a  people  is  thinking  in  mass ;  it  is  not  in- 
dividual thought.    Individual  men,  the  people's  heroes, 
may  have  been  great  in  action,  but  there  has  been  no 
intellectual  greatness  sporadic  among  the  people.  There 
has  been  no  literature  rich  in  biographies,  and  nothing 
among  its  records  which  it  is  not  a  weariness  to  pe- 
ruse, and  a  worse  labor  to  attempt  to  remember. 

509.  Intellectual  development,  with  its  true  philos- 
ophy, its  demonstrated  science,  its  fine  arts,  and  its 
refined  civilization,  is,  in  a  word,  the  expansion  of  un- 
conditioned thought,  and  therefore  it  is  exceptional; 
for,  if  it  were  conditioned,  it  would  be  universal  and 
uniform  in  its  products. 


LANGUAGE  AS  RELATED  TO  MENTAL  OPERATIONS.    201 

510.  Exceptional  as  to  races  and  as  to  times,  sucli 
it  appears  when  the  human  family  is  looked  at  in  a 
comprehensive  manner ;  and  then  if,  from  an  elevated 
position,  where  our  prospect  is  wide,  we  move  down 
and  look  around  us  in  any  private  circle,  the  same  ex- 
ceptional condition  presents  itself  as  characteristic  of 
the  intellectual  development  of  those  around  us.     A 
mental  condition  including  nothing  more  than  what  is 
proper  to  human  nature  in  the  abstract  is,  in  fact,  the 
rare  distinction  ot  one  mind  in  a  thousand. 

511.  We  are  not  supposing  an  instance  of  extra- 
ordinary productive  faculties,  or  a  mental  force  of  great 
intensity  and  great  radius,  but  are  thinking  only  of 
that  sort  of  disposing  power  in  the  mind  which  we  at 
once  recognize  and  bow  to  at  the  moment  when  an  in- 
dividual so  endowed  steps  upon  the  stage  of  society. 

512.  What  we  have  here  in  view  is  not  (need  we 
say  so)  the  arrogant  willfulness — not  the  stentorian 
egotism  of  the  man  who  is  "  wiser  in  his  own  conceit 
than  seven  that  can  render  a  reason,"  nor  is  it  the 
honest  bull-headed  determination  of  one  who  so  main- 
tains his  opinion  that  the  modest  and  timid  give  ground 
before  him  in  argument :  the  mind  of  power  we  have 
now  in  view  might  claim  its  descent,  not  from  Samuel 
Johnson,  but  from  Francis  Bacon. 

513.  Let  the  philosopher  who  assures  us  that  Mind 
is  invariably  governed  by  the  law  of  its  idiosyncrasy, 
and  of  hajbit,  and  of  education,  and  of  professional  oc- 
cupation— by  laws  of  taste  and  of  moral  tendency — 
let  him  take  his   seat  at  a  table  around  which  the 
choicest  men  of  a  neighborhood  or  of  a  metropolis  are 
assembled,  and  where  all  the  liberty  of  speech  is  en- 

12 


202  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

joyed  which  is  conceivable  or  which  can  be  desirable: 
this  sage,  as  he  sits  a  silent  listener  to  the  rattle  of 
discourse,  will  be  glad  to  confirm  himself  in  his  doc- 
trine as  he  notes  his  pertinent  instances,  and  feels  that 
he  should  seldom  err,  after  a  time,  in  predicting  the 
deliverances  of  each  mind  on  any  given  subject.  The 
law  of  each  mind  is  indeed,  as  he  says,  "  each  mind's 
law:"  it  is  a  law  never,  in  fact,  violated,  although  it 
may  often  be  deflected  by  its  collision  with  other  minds. 

514.  But  let  us  imagine  that  chance  has  brought 
into  this  party,  not  a  "  celebrity"  in  science,  not  a  man 
who  has  long  ago  won  for  himself  a  "  European  repu- 
tation," but  a  mind  which  is  sovereign  in  relation  to 
its  own  materials — to  its  own  methods  and  processes 
of  intellection,  and  supreme  in  relation  to  "fixed  se- 
quences" of  every  kind.     A  rare  mind  indeed,  and  yet 
it  is  in  no  sense  monstrous ;  it  is  not  supernatural;  it 
is  rare,  as  related  to  the  masses  of  a  cultured  com- 
munity, in  about  the  same  proportion  as  that  in  which 
the  cultured  races  of  the  human  family  are  few  com- 
pared with  the  innumerable  millions  of  the  semi-bar- 
barous and  the  savage. 

515.  In  what,  then,  consists  this  supremacy  or  this 
disposing  power,  which  exhibits  itself  in  combining  va- 
rious materials  with  relation  to  a  foreseen  product  ?    In 
search  of  an  answer  we  may  follow  it  out  a  little  farther. 

516.  The  company  above  supposed  includes,  let  us 
imagine,  men  of  different  nations :  there  is  the  Ger- 
man, the  Italian,  the  Frenchman,  and  there  is  a  south- 
ern and  a  northern  sample  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  type, 
recent  from  the  United  States.     Each  of  the  guests 
who  takes  a  part  in  promiscuous  discourse  upon  the 


LANGUAGE  AS  RELATED  TO  MENTAL  OPERATIONS.    203 

subjects  of  the  day — the  interests  and  reputation  of 
nations,  shows  a  well-bred  regard  to  the  national  feel- 
ings and  prejudices,  and  to  the  presumed  opinions  and 
professions  of  his  neighbors,  right  and  left,  and  yet  in 
doing  so  he  betrays  his  wish  to  do  it :  he  fails  in  the 
skill  of  combination,  and  he  fails  in  a  way  that  is 
analogous  to  the  mishaps  of  the  blundering  poet  who, 
when  he  can  not  bring  rhyme  and  metre  to  obey  his 
principal  meaning,  leaves  his  principal  meaning  to  shift 
for  itself,  or  to  be  quite  set  aside  by  the  obdurate  re- 
quirements of  versification.  These  several  speakers 
insert,  at  places  in  their  utterances,  whatever  of  con- 
cession, or  of  oblique  apology,  or  of  varnish  they  may 
wish  to  blend  with  the  genuine  expression  of  their  in- 
dividual opinions. 

517.  It  is  not  so  with  the  one  speaker  to  whom  all 
eyes  and  ears  are  sure  to  be  directed  by  the  time  he 
has  uttered  twenty  words.  The  materials  which  he 
deals  with,  and  which  he  converts  to  his  purpose  with 
an  artless  ease  and  a  ready  fluency,  are  such  as  these. 
There  is,  first,  whatever  of  fact  or  of  principle  is  direct- 
ly pertinent  to  the  subject  in  hand — political,  statisti- 
cal, moral,  ecclesiastical,  as  the  case  may  be ;  secondly, 
there  is  the  known  or  surmised  opinions,  interests, 
prejudices,  professions  of  those  present ;  and,  thirdly, 
there  is  his  own  individual  tendencies — his  idiosyn- 
crasies, of  which  he  is  at  least  as  well  aware  as  he  is 
of  those  of  other  men,  but  over  which  he  exercises  a 
constant  repressive  control.  Now  these  materials, 
various  as  they  are,  do  not  come  up  in  the  speaker's 
discourse  as  diverse  patches  here  and  there  inserted, 
for  the  entire  fabric  of  his  utterances  is  homogeneous  : 


204  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

it  is  a  work  wherein  all  shades  of  thought — even  every 
fibre  of  latent  meaning — comes  in  where  it  should  come 
in,  and  contributes  its  aid  to  the  general  effect. 

518.  The  plasticity  of  language  and  its  copiousness 
are  the  indispensable  condition  of  so  nice  an  operation 
as  this.     The  speaker  knows  how  to  avail  himself  not 
merely  of  its  stores  and  of  its  emphatic  forces,  but  of 
its  ambiguities,  its  conventional  evasions,  its  graceful 
obliquities,  its  dim  metonymic  ironies.     The  solid  mat- 
ter of  thought  thrown  in  upon  the  liquid  mass  of  lan- 
guage undergoes  there  a  process  of  adjustment  which, 
though  it  is  completed  in  less  than  an  instant  of  time, 
falls  little  short  of  being  a  perfect  work  when  it  reaches 
the  ear  in  its  measured  yet  artless  cadences. 

519.  An  extemporaneous  work  of  thought,  such  as 
that  which  we  have  now  imagined,  and  which  —  al- 
though it  is  not  of  every-day  occurrence — is  no  mir- 
acle, we  regard  as  the  last  product  of  A  CAUSE  over 
and  beyond,  or  above  which,  or  anterior  to  it,  there  is 
no  causality  whatever.     This  utterance  is  the  expo- 
nent of  a  Power  which,  in  the  most  strict  sense,  is  in- 
itiative :  there  is  nothing  that  is  either  of  earlier  date 
or  of  higher  position  than  that  Power  of  which  the 
product  (in  the  case  before  us)  now  meets  the  ear.     In 
listening  to  such  an  utterance,  a  very  peculiar  feeling 
ensues ;  for,  instead  of  being  invited  to  accept  the  best 
we  can  get  of  the  worn  matter  of  customary  discourse, 
we  now,  with  a  sort  of  galvanic  consciousness,  feel 
that  we  are  in  close  contact  \Vith  the  Power  of  Mind. 
Sheer  thought  comes  home  upon  every  mind,  or  upon 
every  mind  that  is  not  itself  too  much  worn,  and 
wasted,  and  spent  to  admit  of  such  a  consciousness. 


RELATIVE  VALUE  OF  CEETAIN  TERMS.    205 

520.  A  motive  of  reverence  toward  some  metaphysic 
axiom  may  incline  us  to  reject  as  delusive  this  vivid 
spontaneous  consciousness  of  touching  upon  a  First 
Cause  on  occasions  of  this  sort,  nor  will  there  be  want- 
ing the  semblance  of  reason  to  support  us  while  we  are 
endeavoring  to  choke  our  instinctive  convictions  with 
accredited  academic  formulae. 


XV. 

RELATIVE  VALUE  OF  CERTAIN  TERMS. 

521.  AT  this  stage  of  our  course,  and  before  enter- 
ing upon  subjects  of  an  entirely  different  kind,  it  will 
be  well  to  assign  to  their  places  certain  terms  and 
phrases  which  are  customarily  employed  in  speaking 
of  the  intellectual  faculties.     The  words  and  the  modes 
of  speaking  now  referred  to  may  retain  their  places  in 
colloquial  parlance,  for  convenience'  sake,  if  only  we 
remember  that  no  scientific  value  attaches  to  them, 
and  that  they  are  employed  much  in  the  same  way  as 
we  allow  ourselves  to  speak  of  astronomical  phenom- 
ena— not  as  they  are,  but  as  they  seem  to  be. 

522.  The  set  of  words,  and  the  usual  expressions 
which  we  have  now  to  dispose  pf,  carry  with  them  this 
apparent  meaning:  that  the  mind — or,  to  speak  re- 
strictively,  the  human  mind — is  a  concrete  of  various 
powers  and  separate  faculties,  which  are  lodged  side 
by  side,  or  in  an  upper  and  under  relative  position, 
within  the  thinking  substance  to  which  they  cohere. 
It  is  thus  that  the  "Will"  is  spoken  of  as  if  it  were 
a  faculty  distinct;   and   so  the   "Memory,"  and  the 


206  THE  WORLD   OF  MIND. 

"power  of  Attention,"  and  the  "faculty  of  Abstrac- 
tion" or  of  Analysis;  and  so  the  "Association  of 
ideas"  is  the  mode  or  law  of  a  faculty,  and  so  the 
"  Imagination." 

523.  This  loose  and  popular  mode  of  speaking  has 
prevailed  so  much,  and  it  has  continued  in  use  so  long, 
partly  because  intellectual  philosophy  is  an  open  field, 
trodden  by  a  promiscuous  crowd  of  intelligent  persons, 
who,  though  they  have  never  trained  themselves  to 
analytic  thought,  yet  believe  themselves  competent  to 
discourse  concerning  "  mental  science." 

524.  But  the  tendency  to  divide  the  mind  into  "  fac- 
ulties" or  separate  organs  has  taken  its  rise  from  cer- 
tain anatomical  and  physiological  habitudes  or  pre- 
occupations on  the  part  of  some  who  have  led  the  way 
in  this  department. 

525.  Sensation  (in  the  five  senses)  is  departmental 
undoubtedly,  so  far  as  it  comes  under  the  cognizance 
of  the  anatomist  and  the  physiologist.     This  fact  may 
seem  to  give  support  to  the  hypothesis  of  a  depart- 
mental structure  in  the  mind  itself;  and  then,  when, 
after  using  the  scalpel  and  saw,  we  come  to  lift  the 
osseous  hemisphere  from  off  the  wondrous  and  unin- 
terpretable  mass  which  it  protects,  there  meets  the 
curious  eye  a  complicated  and  multiform  organ,  the 
several  parts  of  which  may  easily  be  regarded  as  if 
they  were  articulate  with  the  facts  of  intellectual  sci- 
ence.    It  is  easy  so  to  think  when  a  human  brain  is 
laid  open  in  horizontal  and  in  transverse  section,  and 
when  all  its  mysteries  are  laid  bare ;  it  is  easier  thus 
to  think  than  it  is  to  repel  so  specious  a  supposition. 

526.  But  analytic  severity  demands  of  us  that,  put- 


RELATIVE  VALUE  OF  CERTAIN  TERMS.    207 

ting  away  the  palpable  elements  which  the  scalpel  and 
the  microscope  bring  to  light,  we  should  go  into  MIND 
— and  nowhere  else,  when  we  are  in  search  of  MIND 
— sure  of  this  truth,  that  that  which  is  of  the  earth 
is  earthy  only. 

527.  A  foremost  article  in  popular  mental  philoso- 
phy is  "  THE  WILL,"  which  takes  its  place  alongside 
of  other  "faculties"  and  "powers"  as  one  of  them. 
But  whatever  those  terms  or  phrases  may  be  by  means 
of  which  we  note  the  difference  that  distinguishes  the 
animal  mind  from  vegetative  life,  the  very  same  terms 
and  phrases  are  those  which  offer  themselves  as  the 
very  best  we  can  use  for  conveying  our  idea  of  this 
faculty,  namely,  "  the  Will ;"  yet  only  with  this  dif- 
ference, that  the  animal  mind  is  conscious  also  of  the 
properties  of  matter,  which  consciousness,  as  we  sup- 
pose, does  not  belong  to  vegetative  life. 

528.  Mind  is  not  always  in  act  either  toward  the 
outer  world,  or,  introvertedly,  toward  its  own  states. 
Consciousness,  perhaps,  is  never  intermitted  (unless  in 
cases  of  disease  affecting  the  brain) ;  simple  conscious- 
ness is,  however,  passive  throughout  a  large  proportion 
of  every  twenty-four  hours,  even  with  the  most  active 
and  vigorous  minds.     But  whenever,  and  in  whatso- 
ever way,  Mind  is  Mind  in  its  own  sense,  then,  and 
just  so  far  as  it  is  so,  there  are  no  terms  in  which  we 
can  speak  of  it  which  differ  by  a  particle  from  those 
of  which  we  must  make  use  in  setting  forth  what  we 
mean  by  this  faculty  of  the  WILL.     The  "  WILL"  is 
neither  more  nor  less  than  MIND  itself;  or,  if  we  pre- 
fer a  circumlocution,  we  may  call  it  the  first  rudiment 
of  Mind,  the  second  rudiment  being  its  passive  con- 
sciousness toward  the  properties  of  matter. 


208  THE   WOKLD   OF  MIND. 

529.  The  power  or  faculty  of  ATTENTION  takes  a 
separate  place  also  in  our  colloquial  mental  philoso- 
phy.    In  this  instance  a  very  easy  process  of  simpli- 
fication suffices  for  dispersing  this  hypothetic  faculty. 
In  by  far  the  larger  number  of  those  instances  to 
which  we  should  apply  the  word  attention,  the  mind 
determines  itself  toward  one  object  among  several  or 
among  many  which  at  any  time  may  come  within  its 
prospect,  and  it  does  so  at  the  instigation  of  a  motive 
or  an  impulse — such,  for  instance,  as  those  of  which 
we  have  already  spoken,  or  of  others  of  which  we  are 
presently  to  speak.     In  these  cases  no  separate  facul- 
ty or  organ  need  be  imagined ;  what  we  have  before 
us  is  Mind  in  act  at  the  impulse  of  some  of  its  emo- 
tions or  its  tastes. 

530.  But  beside  these  instances  of  determinative 
action — action  induced  or  impelled  by  an  emotion — 
attention  fixes  itself  often  upon  a  single  object,  ex- 
ternal or  internal,  apart  from,  or  in  the  absence  of  any 
motive  attaching  to  that  one  object  rather  than  to  oth- 
ers of  the  same  order,  and  which  are  ranging  them- 
selves on  the  same  visible  surface.     If  it  shall  be  af- 
firmed that  on  every  such  occasion  the  actual  object 
of  attention  does  in  fact  possess  some  preferential  qual- 
ity, although  it  may  be  quite  inappreciable,  our  answer 
would  be  this — that  the  hypothesis  of  any  such  pref- 
erence is  purely  gratuitous,  for  our  consciousness  gives 
no  support  to  it.     On  the  contrary,  when  we  pursue 
— as  far  as,  by  the  severest  efforts  of  analysis,  we  can 
pursue — the  evolutions  ot  thought,  we  come  to  this 
issue,  that  the  sovereignty  of  Mind  in  relation  to  its 
own  states  demands  or  consists  in  this  unconditional 


RELATIVE  VALUE  OF  CERTAIN  TERMS.     209 

power  to  fix  itself  upon  any  one  among  many  objects 
that  lie  within  its  range,  and  to  pass  unmotived  from 
one  such  object  to  any  other. 

531.  When  regarded  from  another  point  of  view, 
this  same  determinative  force,  which  is  the  prerogative 
of  the  human  mind,  brings  before  us  what  we  mean 
when  we  speak  of  the  "  faculty  of  abstraction."     This 
is  not  a  separate  power,  but  a  function  only  of  Mind 
as  related  to  some  special  occasion.     This  special  oc- 
casion is  that  which  presents  itself  when  objects,  or 
qualities,  or  adjuncts  attaching  to  a  concrete  are  re- 
quired to  be  set  off,  one  from  the  others,  by  noting 
their  differences.     Frequently  in  these  pages,  as  mat- 
ter of  convenience,  the  colloquial  phrase  the  "  faculty 
of  abstraction"  has  been  admitted,  for  it  would  be  a 
useless  pedantry  to  abstain  from  the  use  of  it ;  and  we 
may  do  so  freely,  if  only  we  remember  that  it  carries 
a  popular,  not  a  strict  or  scientific  sense. 

532.  Analysis  is  a  product  of  the  abstractive  facul- 
ty.    When  differences  have  been  noted,  we  set  off  the 
several  results,  whether  they  be  two,  three,  or  more, 
and  thus  the  concrete  has  resolved  itself  into  its  con- 
stituents or  its  elements. 

533.  But  is  not  the  "  Imagination"  a  faculty  by  it- 
self?    To  what  has  been  already  said  in  the  section 
on  the  Rudiments  of  Mind  and  in  the  following  sec- 
tion, little  need  here  be  added  in  explanation  of  what 
we  mean  in  affirming  that  the  imagination  is  no  separ- 
ate faculty,  but  that  it  is  an  exercise  only  of  its  rudi- 
mental  power  at  the  impulse  or  under  the  guidance  of 
a  particular  class  of  emotions,  or  of  tastes  and  sensi- 
bilities ? 


210  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

534.  These  intellectual  stimulants  are  of  various 
kinds,  and  they  possess  differeilt  degrees  of  intensity. 
They  are  yet  to  be  spoken  of,  each  in  its  place ;  but 
supposing  them,  or  some  of  them,  to  be  present,  then 
the  mind,  when  thus  vivified  by  some  sensibility  of 
its  own,  acts  upon  the  copious  stores  of  its  conscious- 
ness— that  is  to  say,  upon  those  treasured  ideas  and 
images  derived  from  the  external  world,  which,  in  the 
first  instance,  were  admitted  with  an  emotion  of  pleas- 
ure or  of  wonder. 

535.  When  keen  sensibilities  of  this  kind  are  con- 
joined with  much  productive  force  or  free  power  in 
the  individual  mind,  the  product  of  the  combination  is 
the  poetic  character,  which  may  give  expression  to  it- 
self either  in  poetry  or  in  the  fine  arts.     Eminent  in- 
stances of  this  sort  of  feeling  and  of  power  suggest  the 
supposition  of  a  distinct  faculty — the  imagination — 
which  we  come  to  regard  as  the  endowment  of  a  few 
gifted  minds.     Some  one  whom  we  may  be  thinking 
of  has  "  no  imagination."     Perhaps  not ;  and  yet  he 
may  possess,  in  an  extraordinary  degree,  the  very  same 
concretive  power;  but  then  this  energy  combines  it- 
self, in  him,  not  with  tastes  and  sensibilities,  but  with 
the  less  impassioned  emotions  of  abstract  thought. 

536.  The  popular  belief  is  strong  that  MEMORY  is 
indeed  a  faculty  by  itself;  and  when  it  is  possessed 
in  an  extraordinary  degree,  it  seems  to  declare  itself 
to  be  such.     This  belief  is  confirmed  by  those  many 
facts  which  show  the  intimacy  of  that  relationship  of 
the  mind  with  the  brain  which  determines  both  the 
tenacity  and  the  readiness  of  the  memory. 

537.  We  are  accustomed  to  refer  a  certain  class  of 


KELATIVE  VALUE  OF  CERTAIN  TEEMS.     211 

mental  operations  to  the  "  memory,"  while  as  to  an- 
other class  we  suppose  that  they  belong  to  the  imag- 
ination or  to  the  reasoning  faculty ;  but  in  these  in- 
stances a  little  attention  will  suffice  for  showing  that 
both  classes  alike  are  resolvable  into  the  same  ele- 
ments. What  we  need  on  this  ground  is  not  to  call 
for  a  faculty  or  separate  organ,  but  to  exercise  some- 
what more  discrimination  than  usually  attaches  to  our 
colloquial  style. 

538.  If  we  are  to  admit  that,  in  whatever  relates  to 
the  memory,  it  is  difficult  to  ascertain  or  to  adhere  to 
the  distinction  between  physiological  facts  and  facts 
proper  to  the  science  of  Mind,  we  should  affirm,  rather 
less  than  what  may  safely  be  alleged,  which  is  this — 
that  on  this  ground  the  two  classes  of  facts  so  melt 
the  one  into  the  other,  or  so  interlock,  that  to  hold 
them  apart  is  impossible.     It  is  here  that  the  inscru- 
table mystery  of  the  corporeity  of  Mind  seems  to  spread 
itself  out  and  to  come  near  to  the  surface,  and  yet,  in 
the  most  absolute  manner,  does  it  resist  any  further 
endeavors  to  unveil  it. 

539.  Whatever  has  once  entered  into  the  conscious- 
ness— at  least,  if  it  has  allied  itself  with  the  mind  in 
act — so  retains  its  place  there  as  that,  in  a  reflected 
manner,  it  may  return  to  the  consciousness  with  near- 
ly all  its  original  vivacity  and  distinctness. 

540.  Facts  are  not  wanting — but  we  must  not  at 
this  time  stop  to  adduce  them — which  sustain  the  be- 
lief that  nothing  which  has  ever  belonged  to  conscious- 
ness is  afterward  absolutely  lost  from  it.     This  may 
be  as  difficult  of  belief  as  it  is  impossible  to  conceive 
of  it,  or  to  follow  it  out  in  its  conditions,  and  yet  it 


212  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

may  be  true ;  and  not  more  inconceivable  is  it  than 
are  very  many  of  the  surest  conclusions  or  the  most 
indisputable  facts  of  physical  science. 

541.  To  what  extent  the  countless  accumulations 
of  a  fully-stocked  mind  may  be  recoverable  at  will, 
must  depend  upon  the  structure  and  the  condition  of 
the  individual  mind  and  brain  as  well  as  upon  its 
habits.     But  here  we  must  distinguish  between  the 
recovery  at  will  of  a  former  consciousness,  and  its  spon- 
taneous return,  uncalled  for  and  uncaused,  as  to  the 
mind  itself. 

542.  That  mere  sensations  adhere  to  the  mind  so 
as  to  te  recoverable  does  not  certainly  appear,  but  it 
is  certain  that  whatever  has  been  taken  up,  and  has 
been  assimilated  by  the  mind,  has  in  such  a  way  be- 
come a  permanent  constituent  of  the  intellectual  ex- 
istence that  it  may  rise  to  the  surface,  and  be  anew 
recognized  as  part  of  ourselves  at  any  distance  of  time 
afterward. 

543.  The  entire  material  of  dreams,  fragmentary  and 
strangely  compacted  as  they  may  be,  is  supplied  from 
this  source ;  and  so  is  that  day-dreaming  which  con- 
stitutes, to  a  large  extent,  the  passive  consciousness 
of  less  active  minds  throughout  the  earliest  years  of 
life,  and  not  less  so  of  its  latest  years. 

544.  The  recovery  at  will,  or,  as  we  should  say,  by 
the  mind  itself,  of  particular  portions  or  of  single  atoms 
of  these  vast  accumulations  appears  to  depend  (perhaps 
absolutely)  upon  laws  of  association  or  suggestion ; 
that  is  to  say,  we  regain  possession  of  that  of  which,  in 
truth,  we  are  already  in  possession  by  its  relationship 
to  some  element  of  the  now-consciousness.     A  careful 


RELATIVE  VALUE  OF  CERTAIN  TERMS.    213 

analysis  of  that  which  takes  place  in  any  instance  in 
which  we  apply  ourselves  to  the  recovery  of  what  we 
believe  to  be  somewhere  within  our  reach  will  show 
that  it  is  by  help  of  something  actually  in  view  that 
we  regain  what  is  out  of  view. 

545.  The  term  "  memory"  is  most  often  applied  to 
two  classes  only  of  the  vast  fund  of  matters  which  have 
formed  adhesions  to  the  consciousness.     The  first  of 
these  is  constituted  of  those  recollections  which  stand 
in  chronological  order,  and  which  make  up  the  series 
of  every  one's  personal  history.     The  second  of  these 
classes  embraces  all  those  sets  of  ideas  which,  though 
they  have  actually  come  into  the  mind  in  the  order 
of  time,  have  so  often  been  recalled,  apart  from  any 
noted  contemporaneous  facts,  that  their  linking  one  to 
another  has  proceeded  upon  some  other  ground  than 
that  of  succession  in  time. 

546.  For  instance,  if  we  have  only  once  passed 
through  a  country,  the  features  of  which  are  strongly 
marked,  as  a  mountain  region,  we  recollect  its  preci- 
pices, its  ravines,  its  waterfalls,  its  villages,  in  the 
chronological  order  of  the  days  and  hours  of  a  week's 
or  month's  excursion ;  but  the  villas,  and  hamlets,  and 
green  lanes  of  a  district  through  which  we  have  passed 
many  thousand  times,  riding,  driving,  walking,  by  day, 
by  night,  fair  weather  and  foul,  alone  and  in  company 
— these  objects  have  quite  broken  themselves  off  from 
their  chronological  places  in  the  memory,  and  they  are 
held  in  view  on  another  principle,  as  that  of  juxtapo- 
sition in  space. 

547.  If  we  except  a  few  instances  of  extraordinary 
mental  structure,  then — and  as  to  the  common  mind 


214  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

— the  most  steadfast,  the  surest,  and  the  most  readily 
recoverable  class  of  ideas  belonging  to  the  personal 
consciousness  are  those  which  have  come  to  adhere  to 
it  in  the  order  of  time ;  that  is  to  say,  those  which 
have  accrued  from  day  to  day  throughout  the  years  of 
the  individual  life.  Among  these  chronological  mate- 
rials, those  which  are  nearly  identical  in  circumstance, 
such  as  the  daily  events  of  a  monotonous  existence — 
a  life,  for  instance,  of  daily  labor  in  the  same  place — 
these  cease  to  be  distinguishable,  and  they  can  be  re- 
covered only  in  mass.  As  to  the  marked  events  or  in- 
cidents of  a  life  of  adventure  or  of  concernment  with 
public  persons,  these  preserve,  to  the  end,  their  chron- 
ological order,  and  they  are  recoverable,  generally,  by 
aid  of  their  sequence  as  a  series  in  time. 

548.  The  fixedness  of  these  materials  and  the  read- 
iness with  which  they  are  recovered  results  from  the 
combination  of  such  conditioas  as  these.     The  inci- 
dents of  the  individual  history  are  single,  for  no  one 
of  them  has  actually  occurred  a  second  time ;  they  are 
conserved  in  a  series  which  has  been  liable  to  no  dis- 
turbance. .  Many  of  them,  the  leading  events  of  life — 
and  some,  too,  which  were  of  small  importance — were 
attended  with  vivid  emotions,  and  have  often  returned, 
bringing  with  them  some  portion  of  the  same  feelings ; 
and,  lastly,  this  series  of  incidents  and  events,  with  its 
various  points  of  intensity,  has  been  a  worn  way  to  the 

mind  itself — a  path  that  has  been  retrodden  thousands 

i 

of  times. 

549.  Not  much  inferior  to  these  in  fixedness  or  in 
recoverable  readiness  is  that  vast  mass  of  materials 
which  make  up  the  subject-matter  of  a  man's  business 


EELATIVE  VALUE  OF  CERTAIN  TERMS.    215 

or  profession,  or  of  his  chosen  pursuits.  A  principal 
in  a  house  of  wholesale  trade  retains  in  distinct  and 
immediate  recollection  the  many  species  of  goods  in 
which  he  deals,  and  the  thousand  varieties  in  each 
species,  and  the  variations  of  fashion  affecting  each, 
and  the  ups  and  downs  of  prices.  Materials  of  this 
kind  never  fail  to  fall  under  some  system  of  convenient 
classification  —  factitious,  perhaps,  or  rational  —  but 
such  as  serves  to  bring  the  whole  into  contact  with 
the  mind  at  every  moment  by  the  aid  of  a  settled  or- 
der, long-established,  and  seldom  subjected  to  change. 

550.  The  almost  incalculable  materials  that  are  em- 
braced in  a  familiar  knowledge  of  four  or  five  languages 
— the  two  classical,  with  three  or  four  of  the  modern 
languages— are  so  held  in  possession  as  to  be  avail- 
able in  several  distinguishable  modes,  the  specifying 
of  which  belongs  in  part  to  a  systematic  education,  in 
part  to  a  comprehensive  logic,  and  in  part  to  philology 
and  rhetoric. 

551.  The  usage  of  the  phrase  the  faculty  of  Mem- 
ory has  been  determined  more  by  accident  than  by 
any  regard  to  the  nature  of  things.     We  speak  of  an 
excellent  memory,   or  of  a  wonderful  or  prodigious 
memory,  or  of  a  defective  memory ;  but  these  excel- 
lences or  these  defects  attach  to  the  mind  not  merely 
in  relation  to  its  retentiveness  of  its  stores  or  to  the 
facility  of  recovering  portions  of  them,  but  rather  to 
its  general  vigor  and  tone,  or  to  the  vividness  of  its 
emotions  or  tastes,  or  to  the  organic  condition  of  the 
brain.     The  memory  brings  out  to  view  the  general 
condition  of  the  mind — its  force  or  its  weakness. 

552.  In  like  manner  as  it  belongs  to  scientific  edu- 


216  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

cation,  or  to  logic,  or  to  rhetoric,  or  to  philology,  to 
reduce  to  a  systematic  form  whatever  relates  to  the 
exercise  or  culture  of  the  memory,  so,  whatever  con- 
cerns the  Reasoning  Faculty,  and  its  culture,  and  its 
application,  should  be  included  in  a  course  of  logical 
discipline.  These  subjects,  on  account  of  their  ex- 
tensive relation,  as  well  to  the  business  of  life  as  to 
scientific  and  intellectual  occupations,  could  not,  to 
any  good  purpose,  be  treated  of  within  the  compass  of 
a  section  in  an  elementary  book  that  is  to  embrace 
various  subjects. 

553.  Eeason  in  man  is  Mind  in  act  toward  the 
sameness  and  the  difference  which  constitute  any  series 
of  complex  abstract  notions.     Reasoning  is  the  follow- 
ing of  sameness  and  difference  Irom  one  pair  of  com- 
plex abstractions  to  the  next,  on  this  condition — that 
the  pairs  shall  constitute  a  continuous  series,  without 
fault  or  break,  from  the  first  pair  to  the  last. 

554.  From  an  incidental  source — the  necessities  of 
method — a  misapprehension  of  this  sort  arises,  that 
those  mental  operations  which,  for  the  sake  of  method, 
we  are  compelled  to  treat  separately,  each  in  a  section 
or  chapter  to  itself,  are  ordinarily  carried  forward  in- 
dependently of  other  operations,  and  of  other  functions 
of  the  intellectual  life ;  whereas,  in  fact,  it  is  only  in 
rare  instances,  or  on  the  less  usual  occasions,  that  the 
mind  passes  through  any  process  whatever,  or  carries 
forward  any  operation,  even  of  the  most  purely  abstract 
kind,  in  any  such  simple  condition,  or  otherwise  than 
in  the  plenitude  of  its  powers  and  habits  of  feeling. 

555.  It  may  be  granted  that,  midway  in  a  mathe- 
matical calculation,  or  while  in  the  very  heart  of  a  sci- 


THE   EMOTIONS:    DISTKIBUTION   OF   THE   SUBJECT.    217 

entific  inquiry,  the  intellectual  power  is  moving  for- 
ward on  a  line  with  the  direct  course  of  which  nothing 
interferes,  arising  from  tastes  or  emotions,  or  from  a 
forethought  of  the  result.  Such  instances  duly  al- 
lowed for,  then 'it  is  true  that,  as  to  the  great  body  of 
our  mental  acts,  the  whole  mind — the  reason  and  soul 
— the  accumulations,  sensuous  and  intellectual,  of  the 
conceptive  faculty — the  feelings,  individual  and  social, 
and  the  moral  sentiments  also — all  these  elements  work 
together,  and  are  intricately  blended  in  the  product  of 
thought,  be  it  what  it  may. 

556.  But  it  is  not  until  after  the  various  elements 
of  our  intellectual  existence  have  been  separately  men- 
tioned and  severally  treated  of  that  we  can  be  in  a  po- 
sition to  review  our  subject  as  a  whole,  and  to  know, 
with  distinctness  and  certainty,  what  it  is  we  mean 
when  we  affirm  of  the  human  mind  that  it  is  ONE — 
one  power,  with  its  emotions  and  its  boundless  capacity 
of  retaining  and  recalling  whatever  at  any  time  it  has 
attached  to  itself  by  its  own  act. 


XVI. 
THE  EMOTIONS:  DISTKIBUTION  OF  THE  SUBJECT. 

557.  THE  inconveniences  already  referred  to  that 
attach  to  the  treatment  of  subjects  such  as  those  now 
before  us  in  chapters  and  sections,  will  not  be  of  much 
ill  consequence  if  we  keep  this  in  view,  that  what  we 
thus  bring  forward  in  a  certain  artificial  order,  naming 
certain  elements,  whether  they  be  three,  or  five,  or 
twenty,  do,  in  fact,  scarcely  ever  come  before  us  in 

K 


218  THE    WOELD   OF   MIND. 

their  rudimental  simplicity,  or  as  they  must  appear  in 
a  book.  Nature  seldom  offers  to  our  observation  these 
functions  of  life  otherwise  than  in  a  state  of  intimately 
commingled  action. 

558.  In  relation  to  the  wide  range  of  subjects  which 
now  come  to  be  considered,  it  is  especially  true — or  it 
is  true  in  human  nature,  if  not  in  other  natures — that 
the  machinery  of  life  is  impelled  far  less  often  by  those 
simple  impulses  which  in  theory  might  seem  to  be  the 
most  imperative,  than  by  motives  that  have  become 
highly  complicated  or  artificial,  and  to  reduce  which  to 
their  constituent  elements  may  be  extremely  difficult. 

559.  It  is  a  rule  which,  if  it  be  not  universal,  is  yet 
of  very  general  application,  that  the  more  any  motive 
is  remote  from  its  source  in  some  instinct,  the  more 
determinative  is  the  force  it  exerts  in  ruling  the  con- 
duct.    Material  forces  diminish  as  they  recede  from 
the  centre  whence  they  spring,  but,  to  a  great  extent, 
a  contrary  rule  is  applicable  to  moral  forces. 

560.  The  instinctive  dread  of  extreme  bodily  pain, 
and  the  consequent  endeavor  to  avoid  it  when  it  is  im- 
minent, are  rudimental  impulses,  and  they  are  very  in- 
tense, taking  effect  upon  all  orders  of  conscious  and 
voluntary  beings — upon  all  that  live,  and  that  possess 
a  nervous  system,  with  its  locomotive  powers.     But 
the  instances  are  not  by  any  means  rare  in  which  the 
most  extreme  bodily  anguish  has  been  knowingly  and 
freely  encountered,  and  has  been  resolutely  borne  at 
the  instigation  of  motives  which  are  so  nice  in  their 
structure  and  so  ambiguous  in  their  elements  that  to 
designate  them  with  absolute  certainty  is  more  than 
can  be  done.     Of  Ignatius  Loyola  and  of  Sir  Charles 


THE  EMOTIONS:    DISTEIBUTION   OF  THE   SUBJECT.    219 

Napier,  it  is  reported  that  they  endured  the  most  ex- 
treme agonies  for  the  sake  of  a  handsome  leg.  Every 
surgeon  could  furnish  instances  of  the  same  import. 

561.  It  must  be  a  rude  philosophy  which  assumes 
the  rule  that  those  motives  or  instincts  which  stand 
foremost  in  a  scheme  of  moral  science,  and  which  ap- 
pear to  be  entitled  to  a  preference  on  all  occasions,  do, 
in  fact,  always  govern  human  nature,  or  give  law  to 
the  conduct  and  behavior  of  men. 

562.  On  this  ground,  again,  while  we  find  it  need- 
ful to  take  our  start  on  a  level  with  the  animal  orders 
around  us,  we  speedily  ascend  thence,  and  take  posi- 
tion on  a  level  to  which  none  of  those  orders  ever  make 
an  approach.     The  impulses  and  emotions  that  have 
place  in  human  nature,  and  the  existence  of  which  we 
recognize  also  in  almost  the  lowest  ranks  of  animal 
life,  take  effect  with  them  in  their  rudimental  state,  and 
they  operate  with  a  force  the  intensity  of  which  is  di- 
rectly as  its  simplicity. 

563.  Animal  appetites  and  instincts  present  them- 
selves in  the  inferior  orders  much  as  they  do  in  a  me- 
thodical treatise,  or  as  they  stand  in  the  "table  of  con- 
tents" of  a  book.     But  human  motives,  such  as  we  find 
them  taking  effect  in  the  economy  of  the  social  system, 
are  not  merely  complications  evolved  within  the  indi- 
vidual man,  but  they  are  complications  evolved  out  of 
other  complications  within  the  social  system,  under  the 
form  of  conventional  habits  of  feeling  and  of  acting. 

564.  There  are  more  schemes  than  one,  and  each 
has  its  recommendation,  according  to  which  the  emo- 
tional elements  of  the  world  of  mind  may  be  distribu- 
tively  considered,  or  spread  out  to  view  in  a  tabulated 


220  THE    WORLD   0F   MIND. 

manner.  One  such  scheme  may  claim  a  preference 
over  others  on  the  ground  of  its  comprehensiveness ; 
but  let  this  only  be  remembered, 

565.  That  the  propriety  of  the  scheme  we  may  adopt 
is  to  be  determined  by  the  issue  of  a  previous  question 
as  to  the  point  of  view  from  which  we  intend  to  bring 
human  nature  into  our  perspective.     For  instance,  we 
may  choose  to  think  of  Man  as  the  most  perfectly  de- 
veloped of  the  vertebrate  animals,  possessed  of  more 
brain  than  any  of  his  fellows,  and  having  an  organiza- 
tion and  limbs  corresponding  to  so  large  a  cerebral 
mass,  or  we  may  choose  to  think  of  Man  as  he  is  seen 
from  his  own  level  of  developed  reason  and  feeling; 
and  thus,  while  we  recognize  certain  analogies  which 
connect  him  with  the  lower  ranks  of  animal  life,  we 
may  quickly  dismiss  these  crude  physiological  facts, 
and  spread  human  nature  out  to  view  in  its  preroga- 
tives as  a  high  intelligence,  although  it  be  subjected  to 
the  conditions  of  animal  organization. 

566.  Yet  again  we  may  ascend  to  a  still  loftier  plat- 
form.    Finding,  as  we  must,  that  some  even  of  the 
most  constant  elements  of  human  nature  receive  no  ex- 
plication, and  take  no  fit  place  in  any  scheme  which 
plants  itself  upon  the  terrestrial  level,  although  it  be 
the  very  highest  level  with  which  we  can  there  either 
discover  or  construct,  we  may  boldly  resolve  to  inter- 
pret man  by  the  aid  of  a  theologic  hypothesis.     We 
may  determine  to  read  human  nature  spiritually,  and 
then  may  so  draw  out  our  scheme  of  its  emotional  el- 
ements as  to  be  inclusive  of  the  principles  of  the  moral 
and  religious  life. 

567.  It  must  not  be  imagined  that  when,  according 


THE  EMOTIONS:    DISTEIBUTION   OF  THE   SUBJECT.    221 

to  this  last-mentioned  method,  we  have  made  provi- 
sion for  embracing  all  the  facts  or  phenomena  of  hu- 
man nature  (some  of  which  must  otherwise  be  thrown 
aside  as  if  they  were  of  no  significance),  we  shall  stand 
clear  of  mysteries  and  of  various  perplexities.  It  will 
not  be  so ;  but  the  issue  we  shall  arrive  at  will  be 
nearly  the  same  as  that  to  which  the  physical  sciences 
lead  us :  we  shall  not  come  to  unveil  mysteries,  but 
we  shall,  at  least,  have  modestly  noted,  and  taken  due 
account  of,  all  the  facts  that  belong  to  our  subject. 

568.  In  this  elementary  book  we  take  our  position 
at  once  on  this  last  named  and  higher  ground,  not  be- 
cause the  author  is  swayed  in  doing  so  by  a  religious 
intention,  but  because  this  is  the  only  ground  on  which 
all  the  phenomena  of  human  nature,  or,  let  us  say,  the 
circle  of  facts  belonging  to  our  subject — the  world  of 
Mind — can  receive  an  explanation  that  is  in  any  sense 
intelligible. 

569.  It  is  better  at  once  to  remit  to  the  hands  of 
the  physiologist  those  subjects  bordering  upon  mental 
philosophy,  in  relation  to  which  we  find  it  impossible 
to  observe  that  distinction  between  the  two  depart- 
ments, a  disregard  of  which  never  fails  to  vitiate  both 
sciences  (239). 

570.  A  philosophy  of  the  world  of  Mind  need  not 
concern  itself  with  those  appetites  which  find  their  be- 
ginning and  their  end — their  reason  complete — in  the 
functions .  of  the  animal  organization.     It  is  true  that 
Mind  mingles  itself  with  these  impulses,  but  it  does  so 
in  a  manner  which  the  physiologist  is  competent  to 
treat  of,  and  we  may  well  leave  him  in  undisturbed 
possession  of  his  proper  subjects  on  this  ground. 


222  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

571.  There  are,  however,  impulses  of  an  instinctive 
kind,  which,  while  they  relate  immediately  to  the  well- 
being  of  the  animal,  have  a  broader  bearing,  and  blend 
themselves  more  easily  with  emotions  of  a  higher  order. 

572.  These  feelings  present  themselves  in  pairs ; 
that  is  to  say,  there  is  a  certain  feeling,  and  it  has  its 
antagonist  feeling,  or  its  contrary,  or  its  complement, 
and  in  various  instances  that  which  we  must  regard  as 
the  secondary  or  subordinate  emotion  becomes,  in  fact, 
the  stronger,  or  the  more  intense  of  the  two.     A  taste 
may  be  pleasurable,  and  yet  feeble ;  but  its  opposite 
distaste  may  be  nothing  less  than  a  vehement  disgust, 
or  even  horror. 

572.  Again,  a  distaste,  very  potent  in  itself,  or  ve- 
hement, may  give  way  to  a  taste  of  a  higher  and  of  a 
very  placid  kind.  As,  for  instance,  the  distaste  felt 
by  most  persons,  and  by  some  peculiarly,  toward  ob- 
jects such  as  those  which  offend  the  senses  in  the 
rooms  of  the  animal  physiologist,  yields  to  the  philo- 
sophic taste,  which  itself  never  rises  to  a  higher  tem- 
perature than  that  of  a  gentle  intellectual  curiosity. 
This  effect  takes  place  long  before  the  time  when  fa- 
miliarity with  such  objects  has  lessened  their  repul- 
siveness. 

574.  Simplicity  in  its  rudiments,  and  the  highest 
degree  of  complication  in  its  developments — these  are 
the  two  characteristics  of  Mind.  So  long  as  we  keep 
this  in  view,  we  may  have  recourse,  for  convenience, 
to  a  methodical  treatment  of  intellectual  subjects,  with- 
out much  risk  of  being  led  to  think  that  any  such 
method  is  a  mirror  reflecting  truly  the  phenomena  of 
nature. 


THE  EMOTIONS  :    DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  SUBJECT.    223 

575.  A  distribution  of  subjects  in  this  department, 
which  is  perhaps  as  convenient  as  any  other,  and  which 
keeps  as  near  to  the  truth  of  nature  as  any  other,  is 
of  this   sort :    those  feelings,  desires,  impulses,  emo- 
tions, which,  as  these  last  two  words  imply,  become 
the  immediate  cause  or  the  incentive  of  some  course 
of  action  or  of  some  single  act,  may  be  considered, 
first,  as  they  stand  related  to  the  well-being  of  the  in- 
dividual (mind  and  body  as  one),  or,  secondly,  as  they 
are  related  to  beings  around  us,  like  ourselves,  and 
whose  well-being  affects  us,  directly  or  indirectly,  as 
our  own.     This  second  includes,  of  course,  whatever 
belongs  to  the  social  affections,  whether  they  be  be- 
nign or  the  contrary. 

576.  Impulses,  desires,  affections,  emotions,  senti- 
ments, call  them  what  we  may,  which  fall  under  either 
the  first  or  the  second  of  these  heads,  or  which  belong- 
in  part  to  the  one  and  in  part  to  the  other,  may  be  re- 
garded, in  a  merely  physical  sense,  as  good,  just  as  we 
approve  of  the  several  parts  of  a  machine  when  we  see 
that  every  part,  and  every  function  in  its  movements, 
is  truly  related  to  the  intention  of  the  whole — every 
thing  is  what  it  should  be,  and  is  where  it  should  be. 
Thus,  for  instance,  those  intellectual  emotions  of  which 
already  we  have  spoken  are  good  in  themselves,  and 
they  have  their  office  in  developing  the  powers  of  the 
human  mind,  and  in  giving  to  human  nature,  individ- 
ually and,  socially,  its  utmost  enlargement,  and  its 
highest  culture  and  refinement. 

577.  But  these  same  elements — these  emotions, 
whether  they  be  of  the  first  class  or  of  the  second — 
stand  related  to  feelings  of  quite  another  kind,  and  in 


224  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

consequence  of  that  relationship  we  involuntarily  re- 
gard them,  when  they  are  in  a  due  condition,  as  good, 
and  when  in  a  deranged  condition,  as  evil,  in  a  sense 
to  which  we  apply  the  comprehensive  term  MORAL. 
The  feeling  is  good  or  bad,  and  the  action  arising  from 
it  is  to  be  approved  or  to  be  condemned  on  grounds  that 
are  distinct  from  those  on  which  our  judgments  rest 
concerning  mechanical  constructions,  or  concerning 
an  organization,  vegetable  or  animal,  or  concerning 
human  nature  itself  when  it  is  physically  considered. 

578.  This  relationship  of  all  the  functions  of  human 
nature  toward  the  Moral  Sense  is  of  so  distinct  a  kind, 
and  it  carries  with  it  consequences  so  important,  that 
it  can  never  be  duly  considered  or  properly  treated  of, 
not  even  in  an  elementary  manner,  otherwise  than  by 
itself.  We  are  liable  to  fall  not  merely  into  confusions 
of  thought,  but  into  serious  errors,  if  we  go  on,  not 
duly  regardful  of  the  fundamental  difference  between 
what  is  physically  good  and  what  is  morally  good.  In 
this  elementary  book,  therefore,  while  we  keep  this 
momentous  distinction  constantly  in  view,  we  remit 
the  treatment  of  the  subject,  namely,  the  moral  as- 
pect of  human  nature,  to  another  occasion. 


XVII. 

EMOTIONS  RELATED  TO  THE   INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING. 

( 

579.  WE  should  go  too  far  if  we  were  to  affirm  that 
what  we  can  not  conceive  of  can  not  be.  This  would 
be  to  follow  the  ill  example  of  an  antiquated  philoso- 
phy. We  grant,  then,  that  what  may  be  very  difficult 


EMOTIONS  EELATED  TO  INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING.    225 

to  imagine  may  yet  possibly  exist,  albeit  no  sample  of 
any  such  mode  of  existence  comes  under  our  observa- 
tion in  this  actual  world.  For  example,  it  is  not  easy 
to  imagine  how  it  should  be  that  so  frail  a  mass  as  an 
animal  organization  could  be  conserved,  and  that  its 
well-being  could  be  maintained,  unless  it  be  made  lia- 
ble to  pain,  and  unless  life  be  held  on  the  condition  of 
possible  damage  and  loss. 

580.  If  the  animal  is   conscious   of  good,  and  if, 
therefore,  it  may  enjoy  life,  and  if  powers  of  locomo- 
tion are  granted  to  it,  and  if  it  is  expected  to  go  in 
quest  of  its  welfare,  and  if  it  is  to  remove  itself  from 
whatever  is  hurtful,  then  must  it  not  also  be  conscious 
of  ill,  and  be  capable  of  pain,  and  be  liable  to  suffer 
from  privation  ?     To  imagine  how  things  might  be 
otherwise  constituted  than  they  are  is  the  business  of 
those  who  set  themselves  to  construct  theories,  but  in 
this  place  we  have  to  do  only  with  tilings  with  which 
we  find  ourselves  surrounded. 

581.  All  species  known  to  us,  either  in  the  present 
animal  system,  or  in  those  of  remote  eras  that  have 
passed  away,  exist,  and  have  existed,  by  means  of  the 
antagonism  of  enjoyment  and  of  suffering.     Then  these 
counteractive  forces  are  required  to  be  kept  in  adjust- 
ment perpetually  by  the  instincts — the  intelligence — 
the  providence,  and  the  active  efforts  of  the  individual 
animal. 

582.  Life — and  human  life  here  has  no  exemptive 
prerogative — life  is  a  good  that  is  to  be  won  and  main- 
tained by  driving  back  the  inroads  of  pain.     Life  is  to 
be  fought  for,  hand  to  hand,  with  the  destroyers  of  life. 

583.  Counteractive  emotions,  taking  their  spring 

K2 


226  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

from  alternating  experiences  of  pleasure  and  of  pain, 
or  of  organic  good  and  evil,  are  the  forces  apart  from 
which  the  rudiments  of  Mind,  so  far  as  we  can  see, 
would  never  be  developed.  These  opposing  powers, 
taking  effect  sometimes  irrespectively  of  any  process 
of  thought — and  we  then  call  them  instincts — some- 
times in  alliance  with  thought — and  we  call  them  then 
emotions — have  relation  primarily  to  the  conservation 
of  the  animal  as  a  sentient  organization.  And  this 
organization  is  a  framework  of  so  frail  a  sort  that  it 
may  be  broken,  rent,  crushed  at  any  moment. 

584.  Organic  good  and  evil — pleasure  and  pain — 
tastes  and  distastes,  are  either  present  at  the  moment, 
and  thus  take  effect  upon  the  mind  in  a  direct  man- 
ner, or  they  are  remembered :  they  come  to  be  present 
in  Idea,  and  they  are  thought  of  also  as  contingently 
future ;  and  it  is  to  this  ideal  form  of  any  feeling, 
chiefly,  if  not  solely,  that  we  apply  the  word  Emotion. 
An  Emotion  is  the  thought  of  pleasure  or  of  pain, 
either  near  at  hand  or  remote,  in  the  past  or  in  the 
future. 

585.  The  one  term  Emotion  is  often  employed  (be- 
cause we  have  no  better  word)  comprehensively  of  all 
kinds  and  degrees  of  feeling,  whether  they  be  appe- 
tites, desires,  hopes,  fears,  aversions,  disgusts,  which 
bear  upon  the  individual  welfare :  it  is  applied  also  to 
feelings  of  a  very  different  class,  namely,  the  social 
affections;  and  it  would  be  (well  if  we  had  in  use 
several  words  instead  of  one,  where  the  difference  in 
meaning  is  so  great. 

586.  And  in  respect  also  of  those  emotions  of  the 
first-named  kind,  there  is  room  for  more  discrimination 


EMOTIONS  RELATED  TO  INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING.    227 

than  is  indicated  in  the  ordinary  phrases  at  our  com- 
mand. The  infusorial  animalcule,  just  now  awaked 
from  its  germ-state,  and  when  it  has  had  no  experience 
whatever  of  the  pain,  harm,  or  violence  that  abound 
in  the  world,  is  seen  to  snatch  itself  up  at  the  least 
agitation  of  the  water  in  which  it  floats,  and  to  gather 
in  its  tendrils,  or  to  crouch  in  its  cell.  But  this  pre- 
cautionary action  must  be  considered  as  only  a  function 
of  the  nervous  system  ;  it  is  not  an  alarm  of  the  mind. 
The  same  conservative  instincts  attach  to  all  orders  of 
animals,  man  included ;  but  it  is  not  of  such  instincts 
that  we  have  now  to  speak :  they  connect  themselves 
indeed  with  rnind,  but  they  belong  more  directly  to 
physiology  than  to  mental  philosophy, 

587.  It  is  when  these  elements  have  undergone  a 
reflective  process,  and  have  passed  through  combina- 
tions, that  they  claim  to  be  considered  as  proper  to  the 
world  of  Mind.     Animal  good  and  evil,  actually  ex- 
perienced, is  thenceforth  remembered,  and  revolved,  and 
repeated  in  Idea,  and  thus  gives  rise  to  action.     It  is 
to  this  complicate  and  reflective  feeling  that  the  word 
Emotion  is  applied  in  its  most  proper  sense. 

588.  If  emotion  be  thus  defined,  it  can  not  be  known 
how  far  the  inferior  orders  come  within  the  circle  of 
this  soul-life:  they  may  touch  the  borders  of  it,  but 
not  more,  for  to  enter  farther  would  imply  some  de- 
velopment of  the  moral  element ;  and  this  must  be- 
wray itself  in  other  modes.     The  being,  whatever  is 
its  structure  and  its  organization,  that,  by  emotions 
centred  upon  itself,  becomes  a  person,  will  be  seen  to 
be  choosing  a  path  for  himself:  he  will  be  walking 
individually  in  his  own  way,  and  to  some  extent  he 


228  THE   WORLD    OF   MIND. 

will  be  a  nonconformist  in  relation  to  his  species  or 
tribe. 

589.  It  is  much  rather  on  the  side  of  their  sensi- 
bilities toward  man  than  as  related  to  their  own  species 
that  domesticated  animals  give  evidence  of  their  partic- 
ipating in  the  emotional  life,  or  of  possessing  feelings 
of  a  higher  order  than  the  merely  animal  instincts.    So 
far  as  the  dog  shows  that  he  has  a  soul,  it  is  in  his 
behavior  toward  his  master,  not  as  toward  his  kind: 
toward  his  kind  it  is  his  instincts  only  that  take  effect ; 
but  his  fond  attachment  to  his  master  has  a  depth,  and 
a  permanence  too,  that  bring  him  near  upon  the  borders 
of  those  affections  which  we  reckon  to  be  proper  to 
human  nature.     The  attachment  of  the  faithful  dog 
to  his  master  is,  moreover,  pure  of  the  taint  of  selfish- 
ness, and  it  is  so  through  the  limitation  or  imperfec- 
tion of  his  nature.     The  animal  mind  does  not  rumi- 
nate— it  does  not  turn  in  upon  itself:  the  animal  soul 
wants,  as  we  must  believe,  the  individualizing  tend- 
ency: it  forms  no  estimate  of  its  personal  condition 
as  better  or  worse  than  that  of  others.     The  dog  (so 
we  must  suppose)  does  not  think  of  himself  as  the 
happiest  of  his  species  or  as  the  most  miserable;  though 
lie  be  entirely  self-seeking  as  to  his  instincts,  he  is 
quite  free  from  selfishness  as  to  his  mind. 

590.  But  human  nature,  even  in  its  most  degraded 
condition,  gives  evidence  of  this  reflective  tendency, 
and  every  advance  in  culture  and  refinement  greatly 
enhances  it.     Consciousness,  with  its  many  elements 
of  feeling,  its  ever-varying  experiences,  its  recollections, 
and  its  anticipations,  is,  in  the  cultured  man,  always 
revolving  upon  itself ;  it  is  returning  upon  the  trodden 


EMOTIONS  RELATED  TO  INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING.    229 

path  of  its  individual  history,  comparing  itself  with 
itself,  arid  with  all  things  and  persons  around  it.  It 
is  in  this  manner  that  the  individual  becomes,  as  we 
may  say,  congested  and  compacted.  The  man  sets 
himself  off  from  his  species  ;  he  shuts  out  invasions  ; 
he  imparts  himself  only  so  far  as  he  wills  to  do  so ; 
he  cherishes  the  feeling  of  insulation,  upon  which  an- 
other feeling  will  sooner  or  later  come  to  lodge  itself, 
namely,  that  of  moral  responsibility.  The  course  of 
things  is  direct  and  inevitable  which  has  this  issue  in 
view ;  emotions,  pleasurable  and  the  contrary,  related 
to  the  individual  well-being,  bring  on  a  reverberative 
feeling — a  reflective  consciousness ;  and  the  next  for- 
ward step  must  be  taken,  which  is  a  tacit  confession 
of  relationship  to  a  moral  system. 

591.  Then  again,  in  another  manner,  out  of  the  ele- 
ments of  those  feelings  that  relate  immediately  to  the 
individual  good  there  springs  a  further  preparation  for 
the  working  of  a  moral  system  ;  it  is  of  this  sort : 

592.  The  ever-changing  experiences  of  good  and  evil 
— of  organic  enjoyment  and  suffering — of  satiety  and 
privation — pass  into  the  form  of  motives  of  action,  bal- 
anced  one  against  another,  or  one   against   several. 
An  intense  experience,  simply  organic,  balances  often 
against  a  complex  experience,  with  which  reason  has 
more  or  less  to  do,  and  then  the  determinative  force — 
the  proper  power  of  Mind — comes  out  in  the  resolve. 
Many  are  the  oscillations,  many  the  decisions  and  the 
counter  decisions  which  take  place  when,  exclusive  of 
any  properly  moral  influence,  wThat  may  be  called  the 
physical  machinery  of  mind  is  finding  its  state  of  equi- 
librium. 


230  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

593.  The  individual  experiences,  inasmuch  as  they 
have  taken  their  places,  at  the  first,  in  chronological 
order,  so  do  they  become  fixed  in  that  order  with  more 
and  more  distinctness  while  this  interaction  of  motives 
is  going  on.     The  mind  makes  for  itself  a  wont-way 
upon  the  field  of  its  personal  history,  and  thus  it  ac- 
quires the  habit  of  deriving  its  motives  from  sources 
that  are  remote  from  the  present  hour.     The  impulses 
of  the  moment  may  be  very  intense,  and  they  may  be 
of  prevailing  force  ;  but  already  they  have  met  a  coun- 
teraction from  influences  that  are  of  ancient  date  in  the 
personal  history :  so  it  is  that  the  now  and  the  by-gone 
are  being  brought  to  an  adjustment. 

594.  The  tyranny  of  momentary  impulses  is  broken 
when  once  its  power  has  come  to  be  shared  with  mo- 
tives that  are  of  various  dates.     This  simple  fact  in 
human  nature  should  be  noted,  for  it  is  one  of  its  prin- 
cipal distinctions  as  compared  with  the  animal  natures 
around  it,  that  the  momentary  organic  good  or  ill  touch- 
ing the  individual  well-being  is  a  force  counterpoised 
by  forces  that  are  not  of  this  instant,  but  are  of  times 
remembered.     If  we  say,  as  we  must,  that  the  imme- 
diate force  is  likely  to  prevail  over  a  force  more  remote, 
we  must  also  admit  that,  in  the  actual  working  of  hu- 
man nature,  the  result  of  culture  and  refinement  is  to 
give  to  remote  motives  a  coherence  and  consistency 
which  is  found  to  be  more  than  enough  to  countervail 
their  antagonist.     What  are  the  usages  of  polished  so- 
ciety but  so  many  instances  of  tnis  very  kind,  in  which, 
apart  from  any  motives  that  have  a  moral  import,  the 
behavior  of  the  man  at  the  present  moment  has  come 
under  the  control  of  motives  drawn  from  past  times  ? 


EMOTIONS  EELATED  TO  INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING.   231 

The  personal  behavior  of  the  civilized  man  is  the  ex- 
ponent of  his  history — it  is  not  the  result  of  any  sell- 
seeking  impulse  of  the  moment. 

595.  It  can  not  be  known  how  much  of  depth  or  of 
efficacy  might  belong  to  these  remote  motives  if  they 
were  drawn  exclusively  from  each  one's  individual  ex- 
perience.    In  fact,  they  are  never  limited  as  to  their 
origin  in  any  such  manner.     The  individual  man  takes 
up,  unconsciously,  along  with  his  single  experiences, 
all  that  he  sees,  hears,  or  imagines  of  the  experiences 
of  others.     The  ideal  of  well-being  which  has  formed 
itself  within  him,  with  the  motives  which  spring  from 
this  conception,  embraces  whatever  may  have  been  re- 
lated and  whatever  may  have  been  imagined  of  enjoy- 
ment and  of  suffering  that  is  incident  to  the  lot  of  man 
— even  the  most  extreme  instances  in  both  kinds. 

596.  In  truth,  those  emotions  that  take  their  rise  in 
our  sympathies,  and  that  come  within  the  range  of  the 
imagination,  usually  possess  a  force  very  far  exceed- 
ing that  of  feelings  arising  merely  from  our  individual 
experience.     Thus  it  is  that  the  vigor  of  the  personal 
conduct — the  courage — the  activity  of  the  man — his 
power  of  endurance — his  patient  determination,  and 
what  is  called  the  "  strength  of  his  will,"  while  they 
bear  proportion,  in  part,  to  what  have  Jbeen  his  per- 
sonal experiences  as  more  or  less  ordinary,  and  in  part 
to  his  susceptibility  of  feeling  according  to  his  temper- 
ament, yet  more  are  they  proportionate  to  the  breadth 
of  the  view  that  he  has  been  used  to  take  of  the  lot  of 
his  fellow-men,  and  to  the  power  of  the  imaginative 
faculty,  which  may  so  have  magnified  things  actual, 
and  may  so  have  imparted  an  undefined  intensity  to 


232  THE    WORLD   OF   MIND. 

all  elements  of  human  life — its  good  and  its  evil — as 
to  lift  him,  in  conduct,  far  above  the  level  to  which 
any  motives  of  self-advantage  could  have  raised  him. 

597.  It  is  when  those  emotions  which  take  their 
rise  in  the  impulses  of  the  individual  welfare  combine 
themselves,  as  they  are  prompt  to  do,  with  the  social 
emotions,  and  gather  to  themselves  immeasurable  force 
from  these  sympathies — it  is  then  that  human  nature 
puts  forth  its  powers  in  their  amplitude,  and  that  man 
gives  evidence  of  what  great  things  he  may  do  and  en- 
dure when  every  faculty  which  belongs  to  his  structure 
has  come  to  take  its  part  in  determining  his  conduct. 

598.  The  difference  in  power  between  a  merely  self- 
intending  impulse,  and  such  an  impulse  when  it  is  com- 
bined with  motives  or  dispositions  of  the  social  class, 
is  seen  in  instances  such  as  these :  A  mere  intention, 
having  for  its  object  the  animal  well-being  of  the  in- 
dividual man,  may  "be  strong  in  a  given  degree";  but 
when  a  feeling  of  the  same  kind  commingles  itself  with 
the  thought  of  others  who  are  imagined,  or  are  known 
to  be  competing  with  him  for  the  goods  of  life,  it  be- 
comes intense :  it  is  then  a  selfishness,  which,  unless 
it  be  effectively  controlled,  overrides  all  other  disposi- 
tions, and  tramples  upon  all  sympathies. 

599.  There   are  contrary  instances  that  have  the 
same  significance,  and  that  convey  their  meaning  in  a 
happier  manner.     A  self-intending  impulse  prompts 
us  to  avoid,  and,  if  it  be  possible,  to  retreat  from,  acute 
pain ;  but  the  instances  are  ofevery-day  occurrence  in 
domestic  life  of  a  free  and  continuous  endurance  of 
acute  pain,  or  of  the  most  exhaustive  labors,  at  the  in- 
stigation of  the  gentle  affections.     The  ascetic  bears 


EMOTIONS  .RELATED  TO  INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING.  233 

his  burden  of  self-imposed  animal  misery  at  the  bid- 
ding of  motives  that  are  drawn  from  remote  sources, 
and  which  have  become  highly  complicated ;  for  it  is 
far  from  true  that  a  stern  religious  dread  is  the  princi- 
pal ingredient  in  this  voluntary  martyr's  course. 

600.  It  is  for  the  physiologist  to  treat,  severally  and 
in  his  own  way,  of  those  appetites  and  instincts  which 
belong  to  the  animal  organization.     In  relation  to  the 
world  of  Mind,  we  have  to  think  of  them   only  as 
forming  a  class,  and  we  have  to  note  the  place  which 
these  feelings  and  impulses  occupy  in  the  structure 
of  human  nature  as  endowed  with  mind.     Then,  to 
determine  this  place,  we  must  look  around  to  other 
natures,  participants   also  in  the   same   conservative 
emotions,  but  participating  therein  under  very  differ- 
ent conditions. 

601.  In  human  nature,  as  we  have  said,  the  now- 
present  organic  impulse  meets,  at  a  very  early  stage  of 
the  individual  history,  a  counterpoise  resulting  from 
recollected  experiences  of  enjoyment  and  of  suffering. 
Each  instance  of  such  a  counteraction  between  pres- 
ent sensations  and  recollected  feelings  brings  the  man 
into  a  state  of  complex  action,  and  gives  rise  to  that 
rumination — that  usage  of  passing  to  and  fro,  up  and 
down,  upon  the  pathway  of  the  individual  history,  of 
which  already  we  have  spoken.     The  mind,  thus  fall- 
ing into  the   chronological  habit,  acquires  more  and 
more  consciousness  toward  its  own  continuous  welfare. 
In  this  way,  minds  of  the  thoughtful  class  live  every 
hour  at  a  much  higher  rate  than  the  things  of  the 
hour  would  imply.     If  we  might  formulate  the  enjoy- 
ment and  the  suffering — the  pleasure  and  the  pain  of 


234  THE    WORLD    OF    MIND. 

each  passing  period  of  human  existence,  it  must  be 
in  some  such  way  as  this :  An  hour  of  life  in  human 
nature  is  the  present  good  and  ill,  plus  the  good  and 
ill  of  all  past  hours  dimly  or  vividly  reflected  upon  it. 

602.  It  may  be  asked,  How  do  we  know  that  the 
inferior  minds  around  us  are  not  reflective  in  this  same 
way,  or  that  they  do  not  ruminate  upon  the  condition 
of  their  individual  lot  ?     In  one  sense  we  do  not  and 
can  not  know  this,  for  we  can  not  enter  the  conscious- 
ness of  another  being.     For  aught  we  can  know,  the 
animals  that  crouch  on  the  hearth  at  our  feet  may  be 
meditating  the  deepest  things  of  philosophy.     Who 
can  say  it  is  not  so  ? 

603.  Yet  we  are  not  left  quite  in  the  dark  on  this 
ground.     Mind  indicates,  in  one  mode  or  in  another, 
the  working  of  its  faculties.     The  supposition  that 
there  are  minds  which  in  no  interpretable  way  express 
in  their  behavior  what  is  going  on  within,  we  should 
not  easily  admit.     Now  the  fact  of  the  reflective  tend- 
ency in  human  nature  indicates  itself  in  many  intelli- 
gible modes,  as  thus  :  that  consciousness  of  individu- 
ality which  is  the  product  of  meditation  upon  the  ex- 
periences of  past  times  shows  the  source  whence  it 
has  been  derived  in  whatever  is  peculiar  in  the  con- 
duct and  behavior  of  the  man.     Man  differs  from  man 
very  much  more  than  do  the  individuals  of  any  of  the 
lower  species  differ  one  from  another ;  and  just  in  pro- 
portion as  the  reflective  habit  has  become  more  preva- 
lent, so  is  individual  character  the  more  marked. 

604.  If  now  we  look  at  the  two  structures,  and 
compare  them — human  nature  on  the  one  side,  and  the 
brute  nature  on  the  other  side — we  must  see  that,  in 


EMOTIONS  RELATED  TO  INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING.    235 

the  one,  provision  is  made  for  the  exercise  of  powers 
which,  in  the  other  case,  have  scarcely  any  room  to 
develop  themselves.  Human  nature  includes  and  im- 
plies a  power  of  determinate  action  in  those  cases 
when  impulses  related  to  the  individual  well-being  are 
held  in  balance  with  what  is  remembered  of  the  past, 
or,  in  other  words,  when  the  now-instant  good  or  ill  is 
not  taken  or  avoided — is  not  embraced  or  rejected — 
until  after  some  gone-by  experiences  have  appeared  in 
court  and  have  been  listened  to. 

605.  It  is  of  no  consequence  to  our  immediate  pur- 
pose whether  we  apply  one  theory  or  another  theory 
to  the  explication  of  the  mental  process  in  such  in- 
stances.    The  fact  is  this  :  that  human  nature  includes 
a  power  of  counteraction  of  which  we  find  few  and  fee- 
ble, or  no  traces  at  all,  in  any  other  nature.     We  may 
say,  if  we  please,  that  this  controlling  force,  which  we 
claim  as  the  distinction  of  human  nature,  is  a  force 
that  is  itself  controlled  by  an  anterior  force,  and  which 
again,  in  its  turn,  is  controlled  by  another  higher  up, 
and  so  on ;  or,  instead  of  these  interminable  repeti- 
tions, which   add  nothing  to   our  knowledge  of  the 
mysteries  of  Mind,  we  may  be  content  to  say  at  once 
that  human  nature  is  endowed  with  a  sovereign  power 
of  which  brute  nature  possesses  only  a  rudiment. 

606.  We  may  see  this  difference  in  progress  and 
coming  to  view  in  certain  instances.     That  conserva- 
tive function  of  the  nervous  system  which  impels  the 
animal  to  withdraw  itself  from  harm  with  electric  ve- 
locity, belongs,  in  a  degree,  to  all  orders  of  animals, 
and  it  is  especially  displayed  in  some  of  the  lowest  or- 
ders of  life.     Animal  life  might,  with  little  ambiguity, 


236  THE  WORLD   OF  MIND. 

be  defined  in  this  very  way ;  and  we  might  say  that 
an  animal  is  an  organization  which  shrinks  at  the  ap- 
proach of  harm. 

607.  So  much    of  this    instinctive  withdrawment 
from  danger,  imminent,  as  may  belong  to  the  nervous 
system,  we  should  here  take  little  account  of;  but 
there  ensues  very  quickly,  when  the  animal  is  in  pres- 
ence of  danger,  the  next  following  conservative  move- 
ment, which,  no  doubt,  belongs  to  the  mind :  this  is 
either  its  using  its  locomotive  means  of  escape,  or  the 
making  a  defense — a  repelling  of  the  threatened  harm — 
by  some  counteraction.     These  defensive  acts,  in  part 
instinctive  as  they  are,  often  involve  some  calculation 
of  chances,  and  then  the  use  of  some  cautionary  expe- 
dients, either  instinctive  or  acquired  trom  experience. 
Instead  of  any  attempt  either  at  escape  or  defense, 
some  animals  use  an  artifice ;  so  does  the  eft,  which 
shams  itself  a  bit  of  stick,  and  risks  the  being  trod 
upon  as  such  rather  than  take  the  chances  of  a  run 
across  the  cellar ;  yet,  if  the  next  heap  of  rubbish  in 
which  it  may  hide  itself  be  quite  near  at  hand,  it  will, 
in  preference,  trust  to  its  legs.     This  is  mind ;  this  is 
a  ruling  among  counterbalanced  inducements.     The 
fox,  and,  still  more  so,  the  rat,  displays  some  refine- 
ment of  intelligence  in  making  his  choice  either  of  a 
direct  retreat,  or  of  a  trick,  or  pt  a  courageous  defense 
of  himself  on  the  spot. 

608.  In  every  instance  in  which  an  animal  resolves 
upon  an  active  defense  of  his  life,  he  imputes  an  inten- 
tion to  harm  him  to  the  object  of  his  dread.     He  rec- 
ognizes a  mind  hostile  to  himself ;  and  this  recogni- 
tion, unless  it  be  such  as  to  produce  abject  terror, 


EMOTIONS  RELATED  TO   INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING.   237 

awakens  anger — an  emotion  intended  to  sustain  the 
animal  forces,  and  to  exclude  dismay,  when  an  enemy 
seems  to  be  meditating  harm. 

609.  But  a  difference  presents  itself  at  this  stage 
between  the  brute  mind  and  the  human.     The  animal, 
when  he  is  accidentally  hurt,  as  by  a  fall,  or  by  the 
fall  of  a  stone  upon  him,  does  not  make  the  mistake 
of  imputing  a  hostile  purpose  to  that  which  has  me- 
chanically hurt  him :  he  bears  the  pain  in  dumb  pa- 
tience ;  but  the  young  of  the  human  species,  in  the 
exuberance  of  his  own  emotional  nature,  and  as  he  is 
himself  full  of  purpose  and  intention  in  .every  act,  im- 
putes an  ill  feeling,  however  absurdly,  to  the  table 
against  the  edge  of  which  he  has  struck  his.  head,  or 
to  the  stone  upon  which  he  has  stumbled  and  fallen. 
This  error  may,  perhaps,  have  been  encouraged  by  the 
foolish  woman,  his  nurse,  but  the  source  of  it  is  in 
himself;  and  it  is  only  by  degrees  that  he  frees  him- 
self from  the  absurdity,  as  he  finds  that  his  petulance 
exposes  him  to  be  laughed  at. 

610.  A  few  steps  farther,  but  not  far,  we  find  the 
brute  mind  and  the  human  running  parallel  on  this 
line,  namely,  of  those  emotions  that  are  conservative 
of  life.     Anger,  in  all  its  degrees  of  intensity  or  ve- 
hemence, gives  way  to  counteraction  in  several  modes : 
even  the  hyaena  behind  his  iron  bars  throws  upon  his 
keeper  a  look  which  indicates  a  mingling  of  awe  with 
his  savage,  rage. 

611.  The  earliest  abatements  of  instinctive  anger 
are  those  which  it  receives  from  the  united  suggestions 
of  fear  and  experience.     A  prudential  calculation  of 
the  consequences  overrules  the  heat  of  the  moment, 


238  THE    WOELD   OF    MIND. 

and  represses  it ;  and  when  we  say  that  it  is  repress- 
ed, we  mean  that  it  is  governed  by  the  mind  in  virtue 
of  its  inherent  force. 

612.  The  next  step  in  the  course  of  counteraction 
is  that  which  ensues  when  there  takes  place  a  compli- 
cation of  anger  upon  itself  in  its  congested  state,  as  a 
harbored  malice  or  a  purpose  of  revenge.     Many  in- 
stances are  related  among  "  animal  anecdotes"  which 
have  this  meaning :  the  brute  mind  appears  to  be  sus- 
ceptible, in  some  degree,  of  chronic  anger  or  malignan- 
cy, and  therefore  animals  have  been  seen  to  choke  the 
outbursts  of  passion,  that  so,  by  this  means,  they  might 
the  better  achieve  a  delayed  and  more  ample  revenge. 
Human  nature,  alas !  is  capable  of  holding  its  pur- 
poses of  revenge  entire  through  long  eras,  and  of  sham- 
ming love  from  year  to  year,  while  it  is  watching  the 
opportunity  to  use  the  knife  of  the  murderer. 

613.  The  conservative  instinct  of  self-defense,  when 
it  has  thoroughly  kindled  the  emotion  of  anger,  exhib- 
its its  most  extreme  vehemence  when  it  has  taken  up 
another  element,  namely,  a  social  instinct.     Hence  the 
reason  of  the  proverbial  instance :  we  are  told  that, 
among  things  the  most  to  be  dreaded,  is,  not  a  tiger  in 
quest  of  his  prey,  but  a  "bear  bereaved  of  her  whelps." 
The  further  from  its  source,  the  greater  the  intensity 
of  feeling ;  the  more  it  is  complicated,  so  much  the 
more  of  force  belongs  to  all  emotional  forces.     This 
appears  to  be  a  law  in  the  world  of  Mind ;  and  an  il- 
lustration of  it  the  most  apt  is  this  of  the  courage,  and 
strength,  and  fierceness  of  the  dam  when  she  fights  in 
defense  of  her  young. 

614.  Yet  at  this  juncture,  and  just  where  conserv- 


EMOTIONS  BELATED  TO  INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING.   239 

ative  anger  combines  itself  with  a  social  emotion,  we 
catch  another  indication  of  the  difference  between  the 
brute  mind  and  human  nature :  this  indication  deserves 
to  be  regarded.  Whether  the  human  infant  is  ever 
defended  with  a  determination  more  fixed  than  that 
which  screens  the  young  of  animals  from  harm,  may 
be  a  question ;  but  there  is  no  question  when,  putting- 
out  of  view  the  maternal  instinct,  we  take  an  example 
of  another  kind,  in  which  life-protective  anger  com- 
bines itself  with  an  emotion  that  is  not  of  the  merely 
instinctive  class. 

615.  Even  supposing  that  some  few  instances  of  an 
ambiguous  kind  might  be  adduced  in  contradiction  of 
what  we  now  affirm,  yet  broadly  it  may  be  affirmed 
that  the  brute  emotions  of  courage  and  fierceness  are 
never  kindled  at  the  sight  of  the  sufferings  of  other 
animals,  even  of  the  same  species — certainly  not  of 
those  of  any  other  species.     But  human  nature  in  no 
case  whatever  so  displays  the  boundless,  and  ungov- 
ernable, and  tempestuous  vehemence  of  its  emotions, 
as  it  does  when  the  compassionate  strong  man  rushes 
forward  for  the  rescue  of  the  weak,  seen  to  be  suffer- 
ing under  the  hand  of  the  cruel.     This  vehemence  is 
barely  to  be  curbed ;  for  it  must  be  death — a  tearing 
limb  from  limb — vengeance — ample  retribution  to  be 
heaped  upon  the  inflicter  of  the  wrong :  nothing  less 
will  satiate  this  burning  appetite  or  allay  its  anguish. 
There  are  forms  of  this  complex  emotion  which  stand 
forward  as  the  extreme  samples  of  the  moral  forces  of 
human  nature. 

616.  These  extreme  samples,  no  resemblances  of 
which  are  discoverable  at  any  level  beneath  the  human, 


240  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

exhibit  all  degrees  of  intensity  and  of  complexity; 
there  is  the  momentary  indignation  which  is  excited 
in  the  compassionate  by  the  savage  driver  of  the  lamed 
ox  or  horse  in  the  streets,  up  to  that  swelling  emotion 
of  burning  wrath  of  which  that  savage  is  the  object 
who  is  seen  to  be  spending  his  demon  passions  upon 
his  victim,  the  slave. 

617.  The  complexity  and  the  consequent  intensity 
in  these  instances  springs  from  the  accession  of  one 
other  element,  in  which  the  brute  nature  is  no  partici- 
pant, but  which,  in  human  nature,  has  a  force  far  sur- 
passing every  other.     This  new  ingredient  is  an  emo- 
tion of  the  moral  life. 

618.  The  instinctive  impulse  to  resist  or  impel  bod- 
ily harm  is,  as  we  have  said,  instantly  followed  by  the 
emotion  of  anger  when  an  intention  to  inflict  this  harm 
is  imputed  to  him  who  inflicts,  or  who  threatens  to  in- 
flict it.     But  the  mere  emotion  of  anger  seldom,  if  in- 
deed ever,  stops  short  in  itself,  or  fails  to  ally  itself 
with  the  all-powerful  emotions  of  the  moral  sense. 
The  imputation  of  an  intention  to  inflict  bodily  harm 
upon  me,  or  upon  others  for  whom  I  care,  rouses  an- 
ger, wrath,  rage  ;  but  not  these  emotions  merely  ;  for, 
whether  I  will  or  not,  I  go  on  to  impute  to  my  assailant 
wrongfulness  as  well  as  violence,  and  this  imputation 
quickens  the  passions  which  it  finds,  imparting  to  them 
a  tenfold  vehemence. 

619.  Just  as  the  infant  foolishly  imputes  Mind  to 
the  stick  that  has  hurt  him,  so  I  may,  at  the  moment, 
and  with  as  little  reason,  impute  a  bad  moral  intention 
to  my  horse,  who  refuses  to  pass  the  object  at  which 
he  shies ;  but  an  error  of  this  kind  does  not  maintain 


EMOTIONS  RELATED  TO  INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING.    241 

its  place  beyond  the  first  moments  of  vexation.  In 
proportion  as  I  feel  myself  warranted  in  imputing 
moral  motives  to  the  perpetrator  of  a  violence — that 
is  to  say,  when  I  regard  him  as  unjust,  cruel,  wicked 
— every  feeling  which  the  occasion  has  called  up  is 
vastly  increased  in  depth  and  vehemence ;  and  when 
rendered  intense  in  this  manner,  these  feelings  may 
impel  the  man  even  to  an  act  of  self-immolation.  In 
such  a  case — and  such  instances  occur  on  the  page  of 
history — the  circle  of  the  emotions  has  fully  come 
round  to  the  point  of  its  origin  as  a  contradiction. 
The  instinct  <  of  self-preservation  was  the  starting- 
point,  and  self-immolation  is  the  end  to  which  it  leads. 

620.  Far  is  it  from  being  true,  in  fact,  that  the  ele- 
mentary principles  of  human  nature  offer  themselves 
to  view  ordinarily,  or  often,  in  their  simple  condition. 
The  question  might  be  put,  Do  we  ever  meet  with 
them  in  any  such  state  ?    Human  nature,  as  compared 
with  brute  nature,  has  this   constant  characteristic: 
that  it  runs  on,  with  instantaneous  speed,  from  its  ru- 
diments into  complexities  of  some  kind,  and  it  shows 
its  energies — its  boundlessness  of  passion — its  powers 
of  endurance  and  of  daring — it  displays  itself  as  a  force 
of  unmeasured  compass  when  it  has  nearly  reached, 
we  may  say,  the  confines  of  its  limits  of  action — when 
motives  too  attenuated  to  be  severally  and  distinctly 
recognized  have  become  commingled  so  as  to  consti- 
tute a  habit  pf  feeling,  and  to  be  the  distinguishing 
characteristic  of  the  individual  man. 

621.  Take  the  instance  of  the  accomplished  soldier 
and  gentleman,  many  a  sample  of  which  may  be  found 
on  the  steps  of  the  British  throne  without  lighting  a 

L 


242  THE  WORLD  OF   MIND. 

candle.  He  has  a  full  personal  knowledge  of  what  his 
profession  may  some  day  cost  him — bodily  damage, 
and  mutilation,  and  the  anguish  of  long  years — death 
being  the  least  oi  the  ills  in  his  catalogue ;  yet  he 
cheerfully  encounters  all ;  and  in  what  mood  of  mind 
does  he  do  so  ?  It  is  a  mood  highly  complicated,  and 
which  has  gone  off  to  a  remove  immeasurably  far  from 
its  rudiment.  The  soldier  we  may  think  of  as  the 
representative  of  that  first  rudiment  of  animal  life,  the 
instinct  of  self-defense.  And  yet,  even  with  men  of 
the  plebeian  order,  the  fighting  element  has  passed 
into  a  complex  sentiment ;  but  as  to  the  man  of  rank 
and  of  lofty  professional  feeling,  the  fighting  impulse 
exists  only  as  a  germ  that  has  done  its  office  in  the 
character,  and  is  lost.  The  calm  valor  of  the  gentle- 
man-soldier— the  man  high  born,  whose  ancestors  bled 
for  the  white  rose  or  the  red — impels  him  to  dare  more 
and  to  suffer  more  than  his  inferiors  in  the  ranks  can 
imitate.  He  is  more  brave,  and  more  patient  of  hun- 
ger and  thirst,  and  of  bodily  anguish,  than  is  the  stout 
son  of  one  of  his  tenants,  but  as  to  his  motives,  one 
might  compare  them,  for  complexity,  and  for  fineness 
and  elaboration,  to  some  richly-inlaid  piece  of  furniture 
at  home,  that  is  as  ancient  as  the  earldom ;  and  yet, 
with  the  gentleman-warrior,  while  the  truculent  ele- 
ment is  at  its  minimum  of  force  in  his  nature,  a  com- 
passionate generosity  is  at  its  maximum ;  for  while 
the  man  is  as  daring  as  the  buccaneer,  and  as  patient 
of  suffering  as  any  Red  'Indian,  and  is  the  one  to  go 
in  front  of  every  desperate  affray,  he  is  as  warm  and 
as  gentle  in  domestic  life  as  his  mother  and  his  sisters. 
622.  We  may  thus  trace  one  of  those  instincts 


EMOTIONS  RELATED  TO  INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING.    243 

which  relate  to  the  individual  well-being  up  from  its 
source,  where  it  appears  only  as  an  animal  impulse, 
and  may  follow  it  through  its  stages  as  it  complicates 
itself  first  with  social  emotions  and  then  with  moral 
sentiments ;  and  when  that,  in  respect  of  which  man 
appears  on  a  level  with  the  natures  around  him,  has 
conjoined  itself  with  elements  with  which  they  do  not 
at  all  participate,  the  ultimate  product  exhibits  often 
those  lofty  qualities  which  impart  grandeur  and  depth 
to  human  life — private  and  public,  domestic  and  his- 
toric. 

623.  All  this  may  be:    the  moral   element  may 
largely  have  come  in  to  mingle  itself  with  the  social 
sentiments  and  affections,  and  to  lift  the  man  above 
the  level  of  the  animal,  and  yet  that  which,  in  a  proper 
sense,  is  'morally  good  in  actions  or  in  dispositions 
may  not  have  been  included.     Virtue,  or  the  contrary 
— goodness,  or  its  contrary — may  still  be  undeterm- 
ined in  the    character.      This   higher  determination 
must  have  place  on  other  ground  than  that  which  we 
occupy  while  we  are  considering  human  nature  physic- 
ally only. 

624.  All  that  is  needful  at  this  point  is  this :  that 
we  should  just  be  aware  of  an  important  distinction, 
and  should  see  the  grounds  of  it.     At  some  future 
time,  the  entire  subject,  momentous  as  it  is,  may  en- 
gage our  attention. 

625.  What  we  have  here  called  an  elementary  im- 
pulse, the  intention  of  which  is  plainly  to  promote  and 
secure  the  individual  animal  well-being,  quickly  be- 
comes  complicated,  as   we  see,  first,  with  prudential 
considerations,  which  modify  or  restrain  it ;  secondly, 


244  THE   WORLD   OP   MIND. 

with  social  sentiments,  whether  these  be  benign  or  the 
contrary ;  and  then  with  those  deep  and  intense  emo- 
tions that  spring  from  the  moral  sense.  But  these 
emotions  also  may  reach  the  highest  pitch,  and  yet 
may  fail  to  include  what  is  virtuous  or  praiseworthy. 

626.  The  brigand  of  the  Apennines  is,  in  a  word, 
the  wild  beast  of  a  sensual,  self-seeking  existence.    He 
risks  all  things  that,  at  snatches,  he  may  live  like  any 
cardinal,  in  the  fullness  of  voluptuous  satisfactions. 
But  if  his  daily  course  of  conduct,  if  its  doings  and  its 
endurances  were  to  be  analyzed,  the  larger  part  of  the 
whole  of  this  outspend  of  energy,  bodily  and  mental, 
would  be  claimable  on  behalf  of  his  social  sentiments. 
His  pride  and  ambition  as  captain  of  the  troop — his 
jealousies,  his  heart-burnings,  his  vanity,  his  morose- 
ness,  his  generosity  too — all  these  feelings  have  no 
meaning  apart  from  the  social  sensibility — even  those 
rudimental  emotions  which  bind  man  to  his  fellows, 
and  bind  him,  whether  by  antipathies  or  by  sympathies. 

627.  Yet  this  lawless  being,  sensual  as  he  is,  and 
ferocious  perhaps,  nevertheless  in  a  genuine  sense  is 
generous,  and  he  is  punctilious  too  in  matters  of  honor; 
he  is  also,  in  a  deep  sense,  the  creature  of  moral  feel- 
ing ;   and,  moreover,  he  is   devoutly  religious — more 
truly,  and  far  more  seriously,  is  he  a  religious  man 
than  many  a  dignitary  of  his  Church.     His  moral  emo- 
tions are  potent  and  unsophisticated,  although  they  are 
grievously  misdirected ;   and  his  fervent  piety  is  not 
enfeebled  by  knowledge  and  disbelief.     The  brigand, 
in  his  gloomy  hour,  is  fighting  with  his  remorses,  just 
as,  in  the  dark,  he  might  be  striving  to  strangle  snakes 
that  had  coiled  under  his  pillow.     Then  he  labors  hard 


EMOTIONS   RELATED   TO   INDIVIDUAL  WELL-BEING.  245 

to  right  the  uneven  balance  at  the  foot  of  his  Con- 
science-account by  acts  of  mercy,  by  rescues  effected 
for  the  widow  and  fatherless  ;  and,  above  all,  he  would 
do  much — he  would  do  any  thing  short  of  forsaking 
his  profession — if  he  might  only  restore  himself  to 
favor  with  his  patroness  saint,  who  often,  at  dusk-light, 
gives  him,  he  thinks,  a  reproving  shake  of  the  head 
and  a  frown.  The  brigand  of  the  Apennines,  who  has 
merited  the  gallows  a  hundred  times,  and  who  lives 
for  voluptuousness,  is  eminently  the  creature  of  social 
sentiments  ;  he  is  intensely  the  moral  being ;  and  he 
is  a  man  of  worship — of  worship  without  hypocrisy. 

628.  If  we  were,to  take  as  our  guide,  in  going  over 
the  field  of  human  history,  certain  systems  of  human 
nature,  we  must  resolve  to  reduce  all  its  infinitely  di- 
versified phenomena  to  the  poor  insignificance  of  a  ma- 
chine, upon  which  lines  of  suggestions,  like  parallels 
of  ribbon  in  a  silk-weaver's  loom,  are  moving  forward ; 
and  if  self  gives  law  to  the  volitions,  then  the  will  is 
determined  always  by  the  most  glaring  of  the  colors 
and  patterns  which  catch  the  eye  as  they  pass.     This 
sort  of  philosophy  fits  well  enough  such  an  instance  as 
that  of  the  usurer  bolted  in  with  his  bags,  who  is  cal- 
culating the  product  at  the  year's  end,  and  inquires, 
"  Shall  I  lend  my  money  at  a  low  rate  with  a  high  se- 
curity, or  at  a  high  rate  and  great  risk  ?"     After  work- 
ing this  problem,  he  gives  his  answer  accordingly  to 
the  importutate   applicant  who  is  knocking  at  the 
shutter. 

629.  Take  the  instance  of  the  most  thorough  selfist 
we  can  find ;  but  only  let  him  be  the  creature  of  pas- 
sion; and  then  his  tumultuous  and  tempestuous  course 


246  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

will  be  explicable  on  no  scheme  whatever  which  frig- 
idly resolves  human  nature  into  principles  that  may 
suffice  for  the  explication  of  brute  nature.  Brute  na- 
ture has  its  emotions,  but  they  do  not  run  into  com- 
plications. In  human  nature  the  germ  emotions  col- 
lapse one  upon  another  with  organic  vehemence,  and 
out  of  these  combinations  spring  boundless  energies  of 
action  and  of  endurance.  But,  before  we  can  compre- 
hend any  such  course  of  action,  we  must  allow  our- 
selves to  believe  that,  in  human  nature,  love  is  more 
than  a  euphony  for  selfism — hatred,  jealousy,  remorse, 
more  than  the  reflex  motives  of  a  defeated  self-interest 
appetite.  These  words,  and  the  cluster  of  associate 
terms,  are  significant  of  realities  which  take  their 
sweep  in  depths  that  are  not  sounded  by  a  closet-made 
philosophy. 

630.  It  is  enough  if  here  we  indicate  the  fact,  al- 
ready mentioned  more  than  once,  that  as  to  human 
nature,  whatever  ot  greatness,  whatever  of  energy  for 
good  or  evil,  whatever  of  individual  coherence  and 
unity  of  intention  it  exhibits,  are  the  products,  not  of 
single  elements,  but  of  complications  of  elements,  and 
that,  as  a  rule,  the  more  intricate  the  complication,  the 
more  distinctness  and  force  is  there  in  the  product. 


XVIII. 

CEMENTING  EMOTIONS  <OF  THE  SOCIAL  SYSTEM. 

631.  ALMOST  every  writer  upon  the  philosophy  of 
Mind  has  had  occasion  to  complain  of  the  unfitness  of 
language,  laden  as  it  is  with  colloquial  ambiguities,  for 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS   OF   THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    247 

conveying  with  precision  and  certainty  abstract  ideas 
and  intellectual  distinctions.  These  complaints  are 
well  founded,  and  the  inconveniences  referred  to  are  to 
be  obviated  as  best  we  may  by  aid  of  abundant  illus- 
trations and  by  some  repetitions. 

632.  And  yet  this  admitted  defectiveness  of  popular 
language,  when  we  must  use  it  as  the  medium  of  ana- 
lytic and  abstract  thought,  is  balanced  by  a  compensa- 
tion which  we  meet  with  on  another  ground.-    If  lan- 
guage conveys  intellectual  and  moral  notions  defect- 
ively, it  nevertheless  brings  before  us,  in  the  most 
unexceptionable  manner,  that  mass  of  facts  with  which 
we  are  concerned  in  the  fields  of  Mental  Philosophy. 
A  language  which  well  meets  the  wants  of  a  people 
among  whom  human  nature  has  freely  developed  itself, 
and  which  answers  the  requirements  of  the  intellectual, 
the  practical,  the  poetical,  the  moral,  and  the  religious 
life,  contains  in  its  vast  stores  a  trustworthy  index  to 
every  fact  of  the  people's  consciousness :  these  stores 
are  vouchers  for  every  thing  which  the  mind  of  the 
people  has  actually  realized  within  reach  of  chese  de- 
partments of  thought,  of  action,  and  of  feeling. 

633.  To  this  voluminous  index  of  the  thought  and 
feeling,  and  of  the  infinitely  varied  experiences  of  all 
orders  of  Mind,  we  may  make  our  appeal  with  perfect 
confidence.     This  index  will  not — it  can  not  lead  us 
astray.     Whatever  is  contained  in  the  Language  of  a 
people  is  contained  also  in  the  Mind  of  the  people. 
When  words  are  put  together  in  sentences  or  proposi- 
tions, they  may  affirm  what  is  not  real  or  true,  but  the 
words  which  are  so  put  together  are  infallible  evidence 
of  the  existence  either  of  things  seen  and  known,  or  of 
notions  or  feelings  proper  to  the  human  mind. 


248  THE   WORLD  OF   MIND. 

634.  If  I  affirm  that  a  ghost  appeared  to  me  yester- 
night, and  gave  me  such  and  such  information,  this  af- 
firmation may  be  wholly  untrue ;  for  what  actually  oc- 
curred might  be  either  a  trick  practiced  upon  me,  or  it 
might  be  a  branular  illusion.    But  now  the  word  Ghost, 
which  is  a  term  colloquially  current,  and  to  which  an 
idea  of  some  sort,  even  if  it  be  vague,  is  attached  by  all 
who  hear  it,  this  word  is  index  to  a  fact  in  human  na- 
ture, namely,  the  belief,  every  where  prevalent,  of  un- 
earthly or  supernatural  appearances.    This  belief,  then, 
is  a  fact  belonging  to  the  philosophy  of  the  human 
mind. 

635.  If  I  affirm  that  the  hearing  of  music  and  the 
sight  of  beauty  in  nature  excite  emotions  which  are  not 
derived  from  any  "association  of  ideas,"  or  from  any 
circuitous  or  factitious  sources,  this  may  be  true  or  not 
true.    But  it  is  certain  that  the  words  Harmony,  Beau- 
ty, Melody,  Sublimity,  and  also  all  those  words  that 
are  expressive  of  the  feelings  and  tastes  excited  by 
sounds,  and  by  sights  of  a  certain  order,  are  sure  in- 
dices of  facts  in  human  nature,  and  they  are  facts  which 
Mental  Philosophy  ought  to  take  account  of. 

636.  Or  if  we  take  up,  as  the  leading  terms  in  a 
class,  the  words  Love,  Sympathy,  Compassion,  and  oth- 
ers resembling  these,  or  their  synonyms,  and  then  bring 
together,  under  and  around  these,  the  many  hundred 
words  and  forms  of  speech  which  are  of  kindred  im- 
port, we  have  then  in  view  a  vast  mass  of  facts  indic- 
ative ot  certain  principal  elements  of  human  nature, 
and  of  certain  usual  combinations  and  interactions  of 
these  elements. 

637.  I  may  affirm  concerning  Love,  and  Sympathy, 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS   OF   THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    249 

and  Compassion,  and  Benevolence,  and  Philanthropy, 
many  things  that  are  untrue,  or  illusory,  or  extrava- 
gant, but  it  is  certain  that  if  the  notions  that  are  ex- 
cited in  most  minds  by  these  words,  and  by  the  cus- 
tomary combinations  of  them,  were  wholly  illusory  and 
unreal,  in  that  case  no  cqpia  verborum  so  rich  as  this, 
relating  to  the  social  emotions,  would  ever  have  found 
a  place  in  the  language  of  any  people.  Instead  of  sev- 
eral hundred  words  and  phrases  of  this  order,  a  half 
dozen  terms,  or  fewer  still,  would  amply  have  supplied 
the  needs  of  the  mind  in  expressing  whatever  it  is 
conscious  of  in  its  relations  with  other  minds. 

638.  There  has  always  been  much  controversy  on 
this  ground.     Wherever  men  have  given  themselves  to 
the  pursuit  of  Analytic  Thought,  a  strenuous  endeavor 
has  been  made  to  resolve  certain  emotions  and  feelings 
into  their  supposed  elements,  and  in  tracing  them  to 
such  elements,  to  show  that  the  popular  belief  con- 
cerning them  is  illusory. 

639.  Besides  the  legitimate  philosophic  impulse  to 
analyze  whatever  may  indeed  be  analyzed,  there  is  a 
strong  tendency  in  minds  of  a  certain  class — the  sple- 
netic and  sarcastic  by  temperament — to  denounce,  or  to 
ridicule  as  hypocrisy  and  pretense  whatever  in  human 
nature  wears  the  aspect  of  generosity,  sincerity,  mag- 
nanimity, virtue.   Hence  it  has  happened  that  the  strict 
annalist,  who  is  usually  a  man  of  mere  reason,  and  of 
little  or  no  feeling,  has  found  willing  coadjutors  in  the 
class  of  the  brilliant  and  flippant,  who  win  an  easy  tri- 
umph in  exhibiting  human  nature  vilified  and  brought 
down  to  their  own  level. 

640.  So  far  as  abstract  discussion  and  argument 

L2 


250  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

may  actually  have  an  influence  in  the  formation  of  our 
moral  dispositions,  it  is  important — in  truth,  nothing 
is  more  important  in  the  region  of  Mental  Philosophy 
than  that  we  should  well  understand  the  grounds  of 
the  controversy  which  is  just  now  in  view. 

641.  Those  facts  of  the  case  now  before  us  which 
admit  of  no  dispute  are  these :  the  language  of  every 
people  that  is  advanced  in  civilization  and  in  moral 
consciousness  abounds  with  words   and  phrases  ex- 
pressive of  benign  emotions  belonging  to  the  relation- 
ships of  domestic  and  civil  life.    These  familiar  words 
and  phrases  carry  a  meaning,  more  or  less  deep  and 
full,  into  all  minds  ;  and  they  carry  a  meaning  that  is 
perfectly  distinguishable  from  certain  other  words  and 
phrases,  which  are  employed  antithetically,  such  as  the 
words  self-love  and  selfishness. 

642.  Farther  than  this,  it  is  a  fact  not  questioned 
that  what  may  be  called  the  antagonistic  words  and 
phrases,  or  those  which  designate  the  opposite  emo- 
tions, such  as  Anger,  Hatred,  Malice,  JRevenge,  Envy, 
and  many  more,  are  truly  understood  by  all  men,  learn- 
ed and  unlearned,  when  taken  as  expressive  of  genuine 
and  uncompounded  states  of  mind.    Thus  it  has  never 
been  affirmed,  either  by  philosophers  or  by  satirists, 
that  hatred  is  a  mere  disguise  of  love,  or  that  revenge 
is  a  circuitous  form  of  benevolence,  or  that  envy  and 
jealousy  are  well-wishing  hypocrisies  or  amiable  pre- 
texts.    We  all  take  these  terms  to  mean  just  what 
they  appear  to  mean ;  nor  have  the  most  severe  ana- 
lysts of  human  nature  forbidden  us  to  entertain  this, 
which  is  our  spontaneous  persuasion. 

643.  The  only  controversy  which  has  ever  been 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS   OF   THE   SOCIAL    SYSTEM.    251 

urged  on  this  ground  is  that  relating  to  the  import  of 
the  first-named  class  of  words,  of  which  Love,  Sym- 
pathy^ Compassion,  Benevolence,  Philanthropy,  are 
among  the  principal.  On  the  one  hand  it  is  affirmed, 
consonantly  with  the  spontaneous  suggestions  of  our 
consciousness,  that  Love,  Sympathy,  Compassion,  Be- 
nevolence, are  pure  elements  in  human  nature,  and  that 
they  are  not  resolvable  into  any  forms  or  disguises  of 
self-love  or  selfishness.  But,  on  the  other  side,  by 
those  who  profess  to  follow  a  more  strict  analysis,  it  is 
affirmed  that  there  are  no  emotions  whatever  which 
may  not,  when  rigidly  scrutinized  and  reduced  to  their 
constituents,  be  shown  to  be  nothing  more  than  reflex 
forms  of  that  one  sovereign  impulse  which  urges  each 
individual  to  pursue  his  separate  and  insulated  good ; 
in  other  words,  that  there  is  no  Love  which  is  not 
Self-love ;  no  Sympathy  which  is  not  "  a  feeling  for 
myself;"  no  Benevolence  of  which  "my  particular 
ease,  comfort,  and  welfare"  is  not  the  reason — the  be- 
ginning and  the  end. 

644.  How  shall  so  grave  a  question  as  this  be  de- 
cided ?  Never  by  the  means  of  logical  argumentation. 
Herein  it  resembles  the  question  already  spoken  of 
concerning  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  or  the  proper 
causality  of  Mind.  It  is  a  question  concerning  ele- 
ments in  human  nature,  and  therefore  it  admits  of  no 
other  direct  proof  than  that  furnished  by  an  appeal  to 
every  one's  consciousness.  Then  there  is  this  peculiar 
difficulty  attaching  to  the  question  concerning  the  sim- 
plicity and  genuineness  of  the  benign  emotions,  namely, 
that  among  those  who  take  part  in  such  a  controversy, 
there  are  many  (and  especially  those  who  take  the 


252  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

negative  side)  whose  personal  consciousness  answers 
very  doubtfully  to  the  appeal  which  we  must  make  to 
it.  Not  only  are  there  multitudes  of  persons  from 
whose  natures  the  "benign  affections  have  almost  been 
expelled  by  the  indulgence  of  evil  dispositions,  but 
there  are  more  than  a  few  in  whom  the  moral  life  is 
constitutionally  so  feeble  that  scarcely  is  a  pulsation 
of  the  social  emotions  to  be  perceived  in  them:  they 
have  no  unquestionable  consciousness  of  this  order. 
Such  persons,  therefore,  will  think  themselves  war- 
ranted in  denying,  as  to  other  men,  that  of  which  they 
find  no  clear  indications  in  themselves. 

645.  At  first  sight  it  may  seem  strange  that,  while 
the  malign  emotions  have  been  admitted  to  be  unmixed 
and  genuine,  or  to  be,  in  fact,  what  they  appear  to  be, 
the  benign  affections  are  alleged  to  be  factitious,  and 
that  they  carry  colors  which  a  stern  philosophy  is 
bound  to  snatch  from  them.     The  reason  of  this  ap- 
parent inconsistency  is  not  very  remote. 

646.  On  the  rarest  occasions  only  is  there  any  temp- 
tation to  simulate  the  benign  passions,  or  to  pretend 
to  hate  where  we  do  not  hate.     Seldom  indeed,  if  ever, 
do  we  feign  envy  or  jealousy ;  seldom,  if  ever,  are  we 
false  in  falseness.     Therefore  it  is  that,  as  to  the 
malign  affections,  there  are  no  current  counterfeits  of 
them :  such  as  they  seem  to  be,  such  they  are. 

647.  It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  the  case  is  the 
very  reverse  of  this  as  to  the  benign  affections.     Love 
and  Benevolence  are  indeed  the  fine  gold  and  the  silver 
of  the  social  economy  ;  they  constitute  a  medium  that 
is  intrinsically  valuable,  and  therefore  it  is  that  the 
temptation  to  pass  a  base  imitation  of  them  is  almost 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS   OF   THE   SOCIAL  SYSTEM.    253 

irresistibly  strong ;  and  therefore  it  is  that  when  rigid 
analysts  or  sardonic  writers  address  themselves  to  the 
task  of  convincing  the  deluded  world  that  gold  is  brass, 
and  that  silver  is  tin,  and  that  rubies  and  sapphires 
are  colored  glass,  they  find  at  hand  piles  of  instances 
fit  for  the  establishment  of  their  doctrine ;  and  if  ten 
are  not  enough,  they  can  bring  forward  a  hundred,  or 
a  thousand,  or  as  many  more  as  you  will  ask  for. 

648.  It  would  be  quite  beside  our  purpose  in  this 
book  to  enter  upon  any  ground  of  controversy  ;  never- 
theless, it  is  unavoidable  that  we  should  refer,  in  pass- 
ing, to  grave  questions  when  they  are  of  a  kind  that 
touch  first  principles,  and  that  take   effect  upon  the 
opinions  of  educated  persons.      Such  is  this  question 
concerning  the  genuineness  and  the  elementary  sim- 
plicity of  the  benign  affections.     We  advert  to  it,  and 
must  continue  to  do  so  as  we  go  on ;  yet,  in  doing  so, 
it  is  not  on  the  presumption  (which  would  only  lead 
to   disappointment)  that  those  who  deliberately  take 
the  contrary  side  may  be  brought  over  to  what  we 
think  a  better  opinion,  but  for  this  sole  purpose — that 
those  who,  by  the  constitution  of  their  minds,  are  open 
to  the  reception  of  this  (as  we  believe)  better  philos- 
ophy, should  be  aided  in  ridding  themselves   of  the 
entanglements  of  (as  we  believe)  a  worse  philosophy. 

649.  The  born  blind  make  great  attainments  by 
means   of  the  senses   they  possess — hearing,  touch, 
taste,  and,  smell — in  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the 
external  world,  and,  so  far  as  it  goes,  it  is  true  and 
exact  knowledge.     But  now,  if  to   one  born  blind, 
sight,  with  its  acquired  perceptions,  be  given,  then,  if 
you  ask  him  what  the  universe  is,  such  as  he  now 


254  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

knows  it  to  be,  his  answer  will  show  how  immeasur- 
ably far  the  perceptions  of  sight  surpass  all  other  per- 
ceptions taken  together  in  bringing  us  into  correspond- 
ence with  the  real  world ;  the  real  world  is  that  world 
with  which  the  eye  is  conversant :  light  is  knowledge 
as  to  all  things  material. 

650.  Then,  when  we  put  this  question,  The  world 
of  Mind,  what  is  it?     It  is  such  as  to  its  primary  ele- 
ments as  we  have  already  enumerated  them  in  our 
catalogue.     But  beyond  this,  the  world  of  Mind  (the 
brute  mind  now  quite  forgotten)  is  the  world  of  sym- 
pathies and  of  LOVE. 

651.  If  any  ask  me  "What  is  Love?"  I  have— I 
can  only  have  one  answer  for  them,  and  it  is  as  reason- 
able an  answer  as  that  which  I  give  to  the  question 
"  What  is  Light  ?"     Light  is  that  of  which  you  are 
conscious  in  daytime  when  the  eyes  are  open.     Love 
is  that  of  which  you  are  conscious  when  a  being  like 
in  nature  to  yourself  is  thought  of  or  is  in  your  view, 
and  who  has  become  the  object  of  emotions  of  the  same 
order  as  those  that  relate  to   your  individual  well- 
being,  but  which  are  immeasurably  more  intense  and 
profound. 

652.  If  you  tell  me  that  you  have  no  consciousness 
to  which  any  such  statement   could  in  sober  truth 
apply,  and  that  you  are  never  so  absurd  as  to  forget 
yourself  in  your  regard  for  another,  I  have  only  this 
to  say,  I  can  not  teach  you  so  to  feel.     You  may  re- 
monstrate, and  may  affirm,  and  may  truly  affirm  con- 
cerning yourself  that  you  are  reputed  among  your 
neighbors  to  be  a  kind-hearted  person;  that  you  are 
not  untouched  with  a  spectacle  of  suffering ;  that  you 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS   OP   THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    255 

enjoy  the  sight  of  the  happiness  of  those  around  you ; 
that  you  believe  yourself  to  be  conscious  of  love,  and 
you  think  that  love  is  one  of  those  ingredients  in 
human  nature  which  may  be  analyzed ;  and  that  the 
mode  of  its  origin  in  our  minds,  by  help  of  certain 
"  trains  of  association,"  may  convincingly  be  shown ; 
and  you  tell  me,  moreover,  that  this  has  actually  been 
done,  with  great  precision,  by  several  noted  writers, 
as  thus : 

653.  "  The  states   of  circumstances  in  which  the 
feeling  (friendship,  here  taken  to  stand  as  the  generic 
term  for  Love)   originates  are  very  numerous.     But 
they  are  all,  without   exception,  of  one  kind.     They 
are  all  states  of  circumstances  in  which  a  greater  pro- 
portion than  usual  of  our  own  pleasures  come  to  be 
associated  with  the  idea  of  the  individual."     "  Com- 
munity of  pursuits"  may  be  the  origin  of  such  feelings: 
"  the  idea  of  the  individual,  upon  the  whole,  is  a  highly 
pleasurable  idea."     Besides,  our  knowledge  of  "his 
benevolence  toward  us  makes  us  count  upon  his  serv- 
ices whenever  they  are  required,  and  his  reputation 
and  influence  in  the  world  are  such  as  to  give  weight 
to  his   endeavors."     This   is,  indeed,  an  intelligible 
philosophy  of  love,  and  so  is  the  following : 

654.  "  The  idea  of  a  man  enjoying  a  train  of  pleas- 
ures or  happiness  is  felt  by  every  body  to  be  a  pleasur- 
able idea.     The  idea  of  a  man  under  a  train  of  suffer- 
ings or  pains  is  equally  felt  to  be  a  painful  idea.     This 
can  arise  from  nothing  but  the  association  of  our  own 
pains  with  the  second.      We  never  feel  any  pains  or 
pleasures  but  our  own" 

655.  Nothing  can  be  more  intelligible  than  this 


256  THE  WOELD   OF   MIND. 

analysis  of  the  social  affections.  It  exhausts  the  sub- 
ject so  far  as  it  is  understood,  or  so  far  as  it  has  ever 
entered  into  the  consciousness  of  a  man  of  frigid,  cal- 
culating intellectuality — a  man  whose  views  and  opin- 
ions are  ruled  by  the  fibrous  and  wordy  structure  of 
his  own  mind.  To  minds  of  this  class — and  it  is  such, 
often,  that  have  given  us  our  notions  of  the  philosophy 
of  human  nature — whatever  can  not  be  set  out  in  prop- 
ositions, whatever  can  not  be  spread  out  in  paragraphs 
and  chapters,  is  as  nothing.  Writers  of  this  order  say, 
what  is  quite  true  when  they  say  it  of  themselves,  We 
know  of  nothing  which  we  can  not  make  known  to 
others  in  words ;  we  have  no  consciousness  of  any 
thing  which  pretends  to  be  incommunicable  in  that 
mode. 

656.  There  can  be  little  need  to  affirm  a  truism 
such  as  this — "that  we  never  feel  any  pains  or  pleas- 
ures but  our  own."     Yet  it  is  well  to  remember  that 
there  are  emotions  far  surpassing  all  others  in  depth 
and  force,  which  have  no  direct  bearing  upon  pains  or 
pleasures,  enjoyments  or  suffering,  either  our  own  or 
those  of  others.     Pains  and  pleasures,  enjoyments  and 
sufferings,  and  the  ideas  of  both,  come  to  cluster  around 
such  emotions,  and  they  are  seldom  far  remote  from 
them,  but  they  are  not  of  their  substance.     It  is  at 
this  point  that  logical  utilitarianism  and  political-econ- 
omy philosophy  lose  the  path,  and  egregiously  misin- 
terpret human  nature. 

657.  The  notion  that  nothing  is  real  but  the  good 
things  of  life  is  the  bottom  truth  (falsehood  say)  of 
some  modern  systems.     Theories  which  plant  the  right 
foot  upon  atheism  will  be  seen  to  plant  the  left  foot 


CEMENTING  EMOTIONS   OF  THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    257 

upon  sensuousness,  or,  as  it  is  called,  for  euphemy 
sake,  "material  good."  If  we  build  our  belief  upon 
this  basis,  then  it  is  a  matter  of  course  that  LOVE  is 
that  emotion  which  ensues  when  a  "  greater  proportion 
than  usual  of  our  own  pleasures  comes  to  be  associ- 
ated with  the  idea  of  the  individual"  (loved).  And  if 
we  are  content  to  build  our  philosophy  of  the  world  of 
Mind  upon  this  basis,  then  it  is  certain  that  friendship 
is  nothing  more  than  the  feeling  we  entertain  toward 
any  one  of  whose  benevolence  toward  us  we  are  as- 
sured, and  upon  whose  "  services  we  may  reckon  when 
required"  and  whose  "  reputation  and  influence  in  the 
world  are  such  as  to  give  weight  to  his  endeavors." 

658.  The  world  of  Mind  is,  as  wTe  believe,  suscepti- 
ble of  an  interpretation  differing  essentially  from  this, 
and  it  has  depths  immeasurably  deeper  than  these 
shallows.     But  as  in  regard  to  certain  intellectual  fac- 
ulties— the  power  of  abstraction  especially — and  as  in 
regard  to  certain  tastes — the  sense  of  the  sublime  and 
beautiful,  for  instance — and  as  in  regard  to  certain 
moral  perceptions,  individual  minds,  nay,  many  such, 
are  totally  wanting  in  these  elements,  so  as  to  Love 
(not  as  a  phase  of  selfishness)  there  are  multitudes  of 
beings- — worthy  people  too — to  whom  it  is  utterly  un- 
known.    This  fact  may  be  perplexing,  but  it  is  not  in 
any  way  questionable. 

659.  The  tendency  of  philosophic  thinking  in  recent 
times  has  taken  a  direction  toward  the  well-being  of 
the  masses  of  mankind — the  industrial,  and  the  classes 
below  these — the  indigent.     But  this  tendency,  good 
and  benevolent  as  it  is,  and  from  which  many  impor- 
tant reforms  have  sprung,  has  been  to  vulgarize  phi- 


258  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

losophy  itself.  With  a  show  of  demonstrative  sim- 
plicity and  certainty,  and  with  the  help  of  tables  and 
statistics,  it  has  carried  its  dogmas  triumphantly,  first 
by  excluding  from  its  regards  whatever  may  not  read- 
ily be  put  into  propositions,  and  secondly  by  claiming 
great  merit  on  the  ground  of  its  practical  bearing  upon 
the  intelligible  interests  of  the  "masses." 

660.  The  human  system  as  a  social  mass  is  clus- 
tered, and  grouped,  and  cemented,  not  by  Love  merely, 
but  by  various  sympathies — by  instincts,  by  commu- 
nities of  interest  and  taste,  by  congruities  of  feeling, 
and  by  antipathies   and  antagonisms;  for  whatever 
acts  as  a  repellent  force  in  one  direction  does  not  fail 
to  act  also  as  a  force  of  cohesion  in  another  direction. 
Looking  abroad,  therefore,  upon  the  social  economy, 
and  seeing  it  thus  bound  together  by  many  affinities, 
philosophers  of  a  certain  class,  or  men  of  mere  reason, 
destitute  themselves  of  these  emotions  that  have  a 
deeper  seat,  deny  the  reality  of  what  has  never  entered 
into  their  personal  consciousness  ;  nor  do  they  encoun- 
ter abroad  any  facts  of  an  obtrusive  kind  which  may 
not  easily  be  reduced  to  system,  or  be  made  to  har- 
monize with  a  sensuous  and  selfish  theory  of  human 
nature. 

661.  Those  who  would  gladly  adhere  to  a  better 
philosophy  than  this  may  find  the  means  of  confirming 
themselves  in  their  belief  of  it  by  following  a  clew  of 
analogy,  as  thus :  in  every  advance  which  we  make 
beyond  the  instincts  and  the  iensuousness  of  infancy, 
we  acquire,  as  already  said,  the  habit  of  reflex  con- 
sciousness, and  of  meditation  upon  our  individual  lot 
and  condition ;  we  become  thoughtful  in  the  chronolog- 


CEMENTING    EMOTIONS   OF   THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    259 

ical  sense  ;  and  in  thinking  more  of  the  past  and  more 
of  the  future,  we  live  less  upon  the  hour  now  passing. 

662.  In  minds  of  the  commonest  order,  this  habit 
turns  much  or  entirely  upon  the  pains  and  pleasures, 
the  animal  good -and  ill,  that  may  have  attached  to  the 
individual  lot,  and  that  are  likely  to  attach  to  it  in  fu- 
ture.     But  in  proportion   as  the  mind,  by  original 
structure,  is  of  a  higher  type,  and  in  proportion  to  its 
culture  also,  and  as  its  emotions  come  to  be  of  a  purer 
and  more  expansive  order,  and  as  the  views  of  life  are 
less  contracted,  in  this  proportion  the  meditation  of 
self,  the  individualizing  consciousness,  is  less  and  less 
exclusively  occupied  with  pains  and  pleasures,  past  or 
anticipated ;  the  individual  feeling  contains  less  of  the 
character  of  simple  self-regard.     What  is  it,  or  how 
shall  we  give  expression  to  that  order  of  feeling  which 
supervenes,  and  which  dislodges  the  selfism,  and  which 
brings  into  the  place  of  it  a  broader  consciousness — a 
consciousness  of  being — pains  or  pleasures,  good  or 
ill,  not  considered — life  not  thought  of  as  desirable  or 
as  undesirable  ? 

663.  Now  a  step  onward  from  this  point  is  before 
us.     We  have  said  more  than  once  that,  in  human 
nature,  whatever  comes  to  act  at  a  point  remote  from 
its  source  shows  more  force  and  develops  more  the 
energies  of  Mind  than  that  which  is  proximate  and 
simply  organic. 

664.  Assume,  then,  this,  that  a  personal  conscious- 
ness, remote,  as  far  as  may  be,  from  sensuousness,  and 
from  selfishness,  and  from  sinister  calculation — assume 
it  to  be  in  daily  communion  with  one  who  is  fitted  to 
become  the  object  and  centre  of  an  order  of  feeling  not 


260  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

resembling  this,  but  identical  with  it.  From  this  feel- 
ing the  idea  of  self  has  been  expelled,  and  that  which 
occupies  the  consciousness  is  that  which  it  would  be 
absurd  to  attempt  to  make  known  by  analysis  or  by 
description,  for  it  is  a  pure  element,  and  it  can  be 
known  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  felt. 

665.  It  is  quite  true  that  Love  must  always  desire, 
and  that  it  will  seek  to  promote  the  welfare  of  its  ob- 
ject, and  that  it  will  do,  and  dare,  and  endure  all  things 
to  avert  suffering  or  privation  from  its  object.     But 
these  desires,  and  these  cares  and  labors,  are  incidental 
to  Love ;  they  are  not  of  its  substance. 

666.  When  we  affirm,  as  we  must,  that  multitudes 
of  persons,  and  many  estimable  people  too,  have  no 
consciousness  of  any  emotions  beyond  those  which 
may  easily  be  described,  and  which  may  be  traced  to 
their  sources  in  a  better  sort  of  selfishness,  it  must 
not  be  inferred  that  emotions  of  a  deeper  quality  are 
rare,  as  exotics,  or  that  they  are  mere  refinements  no- 
where to  be  met  with  but  in  the  high  temperature  of 
Platonic  saloons.     It  is  not  so :  genuine  love  is  the 
broad  substratum  of  the  social  system  in  all  ranks ;  it 
spreads  itself  out  to  the  sun  at  the  doors  of  cottages 
as  well  as  in  saloons.     Love,  deep,  warm — absolutely 
unselfish  and  martyr-like  as  to  devotedness,  is  often 
rough-handed  and  rough- visaged,  and  homely  too  in  its 
utterances.     Love  is,  indeed,  very  choice  as  to  some 
of  its  conditions  ;  it  is  keenly  discriminative,  but  it  is 
not  fastidious. 

667.  We  must  not  look  for  Love  in  any  such  places 
as  these — not  in  the  lower  conditions  of  savage  life, 
nor  among  the  most  degraded  and  wretched  beings  of 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS   OF  THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    261 

a  dense  population.  We  must  not  look  for  Love 
among  the  sensual  and  profligate,  nor  among  the  sor- 
did, and  penurious,  and  calculating,  nor  among  those 
whose  sympathies  have  long  been  quite  worn  out  by 
the  attritions  of  a  factitious  existence  amid  frivolous 
pleasures  and  amusements.  We  must  not  look  for 
Love  in  the  hearts  or  homes  of  the  proud,  or  the  sul- 
len, or  the  malign,  or  the  jealous,  or  the  egotistic.  But 
when  we  have  made  these  and  such  like  necessary  ex- 
ceptions, then  we  may  confidently  look  for  Love  in  all 
ranks,  and  we  shall  find  it,  fresh  and  pure,  in  many  a 
home  from  which  fastidious  tastes  and  cultured  habits 
would  impel  one  to  shrink ;  we  shall  find  it  in  homes 
which  it  is  a  delight  to  look  into  for  an  hour,  but  in 
which  it  might  be  a  severe  trial  to  abide  as  an  inmate 
for  a  week. 

668.  Those  domestic  instincts  and  those  quick  sym- 
pathies which  so  usefully  take  their  range  within  the 
social  system,  and  which  prevail,  for  longer  or  shorter 
periods,  in  every  home  circle — these  emotions,  which 
form  the  ordinary  cement  of  our  social  existence,  have 
this   characteristic,  that  they  are  temporary  in  their 
hold,  and  are  more  or  less  easily  transferable  from  per- 
son to  person.     Endurance,  and  inconvertibility,  and 
fixedness  upon  its  object  is  the  characteristic  of  LOVE, 
as  it  is  distinguished  from  the  benign  sympathies,  and 
from  any  sort  of  fondness  that  is  merely  instinctive. 
Love  challenges  for  itself  immortality,  and  its  surest 
criterion  is  the  passionate  grasp  it  takes  of  the  word 
forever. 

669.  Fond  instincts,  and  kindly  sympathies,  and  be- 
nevolent impulses — these  are  solderings  of  the  social 


262  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

system,  without  which  nothing  could  retain  its  place  in 
the  machinery  of  life ;  but  Love  is  a  welding,  in  con- 
sequence of  which  the  two  masses  constitute  thereafter 
one  substance. 

670.  We  have  said  that  Love,  although  it  is  never 
indifferent  to  the  pains  and  pleasures  of  the  person 
loved,  exists  irrespectively  of  these,  and  still  more  ab- 
solutely is  it  remote  from  a  calculating  regard  to  its 
own  pains  and  pleasures,  thought  of  as  derivable  from 
him  or  her.     But  there  is  another  characteristic  of 
this  genuine  emotion  which  demonstrates  how  deep  it 
is  rooted  in  human  nature.     Love,  although  it  can 
never  be  indifferent  to  the  moral  qualities  of  its  ob- 
ject, may  exist  and  may  endure  irrespectively  of  these. 
Love  is  persistent  when  complacency  and  approval 
have  quite  died  away.     We  ought  to  believe  that  even 
this  power  of  endurance  will  find  its  limit  somewhere, 
but  such  a  limit  will  be  found  far  beyond  the  bounda- 
ries where  we  must  place  it  if  we  follow  the  guidance 
of  a  self-seeking  theory  of  human  nature. 

671.  Although  Love  is  not  irrational,  it  is  not  in  its 
nature  to  be  reasoning :  it  is  anterior  to  considerations 
that  are  approvable  to  reason  ;  it  is  deeper  seated  than 
discretion,  because  it  is  deeper  seated  than  that  self- 
love  with  which  discretion  has  to  do.     Upon  this 
foundation,  where  it  exists,  the  social  sympathies,  the 
feelings  of  general  good- will  and  kindliness,  as  well  as 
some  more  intimate  affections,  take  their  position,  and 
give  coherence  to  the  domestic  system.     But  even 
these  less  profound  feelings  strike  deeper  than  that 
reflex  selfism  into  which  the  social  emotions  have  been 
resolved  by  some  writers.     In  the  vivid  emotion  of 


CEMENTING    EMOTIONS    OF   THE    SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    263 

sympathy  with  suffering,  and  in  the  outbursts  of  com- 
passion, and  in  the  impulse  to  relieve  distress,  there  is 
no  calculation — there  is  no  running  in-doors  to  see 
how  this  case  of  suffering  may  touch  us  at  home.  It 
is  a  direct  and  spontaneous  emotion,  uncompounded, 
pure  in  its  intention,  and  repellent  of  every  sinister 
suggestion  of  cold  discretion. 

672.  It  may  be  true  that  Dives,  and,  in  like  man- 
ner, his  descendants  in  every  age,  will  wish  that  Laz- 
arus would  lay  himself  down  any  where  else  rather 
than  on  the  steps  of  his  mansion,  and  it  may  be  true 
that  he  would  not  grudge  to  send  him  a  mess  of  sa- 
vory meat,  only  it  must  not  be  eaten  within  sight  of 
the  rich  man ;  but  it  is  not  true  that  the  man  of  Sa- 
maria, who  made  a  halt  upon  a  dangerous  path,  did  so 
for  the  purpose  of  relieving  himself  from  the  disagree- 
able sight  and  the  painful  recollection  of  a  man  bleed- 
ing and  dying  without  help.     Philosophical  analysis 
may  be  at  home  while  it  is  dissecting  easy  sympathies 
such  as  those  of  Dives,  but  it  proves  itself  to  be  ut- 
terly blind  when  it  attempts  to  handle  human  nature, 
such  as  it  is  developed  in  the  breast  of  the  compas- 
sionate Samaritan. 

673.  The  intense  maternal  fondness  may  be  regard- 
ed as  in  part  an  animal  instinct,  and,  so  far  as  it  is  so, 
human  nature  may  seem  to  differ  from  the  brute  na- 
ture only  in  degrees  of  feeling.     But  there  are  in- 
stances--^^ they  are  not  rare— which  stand  clear  of 
this  ambiguity,  and  which  carry  momentous  conse- 
quences.    Even  if  such   instances  were  rare,  they 
would  yet  be  conclusive;   but  they  are  of  frequent 
and  common  occurrence,  and  they  may  easily  be  found, 


264  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

if  only  we  have  an  eye  to  see  them.     Take  so  familiar 
an  instance  as  this  • 

674.  In  a  January  afternoon  a  freezing  sleet  is  driv- 
ing through  a  dismal  court  of  a  murky  town.     Upon 
the  wet  and  muddy  steps  of  a  hovel  I  find  a  child 
seated.     She  is  not  naked,  though  it  can  barely  be 
said  that  she  is  clothed.     She  hugs  an  infant  on  her 
knees,  blue-visaged  and  squalid.      She  is  pulling  and 
pulling  her  own  tattered  skirt  this  way  and  that,  so  as, 
if  possible,  to  screen  the  blain-smitted  feet  of  the  baby 
from  wet  and  wind.     Why  does  she  sit  there?     Her 
mother  has  gone  out,  and  has  locked  the  door,  and  has 
told  her  to  take  care  of  baby  till  she  comes  back ;  and 
she  does  so ;  but  she  does  it,  not  from  teaching  or  from 
imitation,  nor  yet  to  save  herself  from  cuffs  when  her 
mother  returns ;  she  does  it  from  no  reflex  or  self-re- 
gardful feeling ;  she  does  it  because  human  nature  is 
built  upon  a  broad  basis  of  genuine  sympathies — a 
foundation  as  broad  as  are  those  thousand  forms  of 
misery  and  degradation  among  which  the  human  fam- 
ily has  sunk  down. 

675.  The  mystery  of  these  miseries  and  degrada- 
tions human  thought  hitherto  has  not  cleared  up  :  a 
dark  abyss  it  is ;  but  there  is  at  least  one  aspect  of 
the  subject  whereupon  a  light  shines.    If  there  be  mis- 
ery and  degradation  in  the  world,  yet  a  provision  is 
made,  and  it  is  a  large  provision,  and  it  is  ready  at 
hand,  and  it  is  quick  in  its  application,  and  it  is  fit  for 
assuaging  suffering  and  for  lightening  the  weight  of 
care ,  it  is  a  provision  of  sympathies,  not,  indeed,  sur- 
passing the  occasion,  but  yet  it  is  always  tending  to- 
ward a  commensurate  extent. 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS    OF   THE    SOCIAL    SYSTEM.    265 

676.  When  we  complain,  as  so  often  we  do,  and 
justly  may,  of  the  selfishness  of  mankind,  the  real 
meaning  of  all  such  complaints  is  this :  that  whereas 
human  nature,  broadly  distinguished  as  it  is  on  this 
ground  from  the  brute   natures  around  us,  includes 
feelings  which,  if  they  were  always  in  vigor,  would 
entirely  prevent  or  remove  many  causes  of  suffering, 
and  would  mitigate  what  they  must  fail  to  remove: 
these  sympathies  are  quite  wanting  in  some  minds,  and 
are  feeble  in  many  minds,  and  are  counteracted  or  are 
vitiated  by  malign  impulses  in  many.     Human  nature 
is  sympathizing  in  its  structure,  but  too  often  it  is 
wanting  in  these  elements. 

677.  The  social  system  receives  its  life  and  warmth 
from  Love,  much  as  the  earth  receives  both  from  the 
beams  of  the  sun ;  yet  this  genial  influence  is  slow  in 
taking  effect.     But  sympathy  is  as  the  lightning;  it 
is  quick  as  thought ;  it  waits  not  to  make  its  selec- 
tions ;  it  is  irrespective  of  considerations,  and  of  par- 
tialities, and  of  tastes,  and  of  cold  prudence. 

678.  If  the  stone  on  which  I  have  set  my  foot  proves 
to  be  loose,  I  catch  hold  of  my  companion's  arm,  and 
I  do  so  without  ceremony  or  the  intervention  of  a 
thought ;  or  if  I  see  that  my  companion  is  in  danger 
of  a  fall,  I  catch  hold  of  his  arm  to  save  him  without 
ceremony  or  the  intervention  of  a  thought ;  or  if  on 
my  path  I  find  some  one — a  stranger — who  has  just 
fallen  and  has  broken  a  limb,  and  is  bleeding,  I  start 
forward  without  ceremony  or  the  intervention  of  a 
thought  (on  the  supposition  that  I  am  no  descendant 
of  the  priest  or  of  the  Levite).     Now,  when  I  come 
near  to  the  suffering  man,  how  does  the  sight  of  his 

M 


266  THE   WORLD   OP   MIND. 

wounds  and  the  hearing  of  his  moans  affect  me  ?  To 
answer  this  question,  let  me  suppose,  instead  of  the 
case  before  us,  that 

679.  I  am  myself  the  sufferer ;  and  now  I  not  only 
see  a  compound  fracture,  but  feel  it.     The  organic  sen- 
sation in  this  case  is  doubtless  much  more  intense  and 
vivid  than  any  sympathy  can  be  in  the  other  case,  but 
yet  the  sympathy  takes  a  much  deeper  hold  of  the 
mind  than  the  pain  does.     The  bodily  pain  is  all  my 
own ;  it  is  a  definite  ill ;  I  know  the  worst  of  it ;  I 
bear  it  with  a  manly  resolution,  and  I  calmly  look 
about  for  the  means,  if  there  are  any  at  hand,  for  get- 
ting myself  relief.     But  the  sympathy  that  is  excited 
by  the  suffering  of  another  wakes  up  my  whole  na- 
ture, constituted  as  I  am.     This  emotion  so  spreads 
itself  throughout  me  as  that  mind  and  body  are  corn- 
moved  at  once,  and  both  are  roused  to  action,  and  all 
take  this  one  direction  toward  the  sufferer ;  and  where- 
as, in  the  other  supposed  case,  I  should  endeavor  to 
help  myself  at  the  suggestion  of  reason  merely,  now 
that  another  is  the  sufferer,  reason  does  its  part  at  the 
impulse  of  many  concurrent  feelings. 

680.  In  these  outgoings  of  spontaneous  sympathy, 
Love  may  be  present  or  not  present.     The  two  kinds 
of  emotion  are  clearly  distinguishable,  and  they  are 
more  often  found  apart  than  conjoined.     But  the  sym- 
pathies consort  themselves  in  several  different  modes 
with  the  instincts  that  are  peculiar  to  the  domestic 
system,  and  in  this  combination  they  become  so  inti- 
mately commingled  one  with  another  as  not  to  be  dis- 
tinguishable.    With  composite  emotions  of  this  kind, 
Love  mingles  itself  in  greater  or  in  less  degrees ;  very 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS   OF   THE   SOCIAL    SYSTEM.    267 

feebly  sometimes,  even  where  instinctive  sympathies 
are  vivid  and  intense. 

681.  The  domestic  scheme  of  life  includes  a  set  of 
emotions  which  well  enough  subserve  the  purposes 
toward  which,  obviously,  they  are  related,  even  when 
there  is  a  very  small  admixture  of  Love.     But  when 
Love,  as  a  fixed,  permanent  affection,  binding  together 
individual  persons,  is  superadded  to  domestic  instincts, 
then  there  takes  place  an  entire  absorption  of  all  self- 
intending  desires  and  thoughts,  and  a  supervention  of 
emotions  which  have  become  homogeneous,  as  if  by 
the  incandescence  and  fusion  of  the  elements.     This 
ultimate  product  must  ever  defy  philosophy,  for  no 
analysis  of  it  can  be  effected,  no  explanation  given  of 
its  origin,  no  forecasting  of  what  it  may  issue  in,  or 
the  course  of  action  it  may  lead  to. 

682.  The  conjugal  affection,  and  the  parental,  and, 
in  a  lower  sense,  perhaps,  the  filial  and  the  fraternal 
— these  affections  are  but  several  modes  of  one  species 
of  feeling,  and  it  is  that  in  human  nature  which  by 
itself  (though  it  be  not  alone)  would  bespeak  for  man 
more  than  the  brief  term  of  existence  which  the  present 
life  affords  him. 

683.  An  elementary  book  is  not  the  place  for  say- 
ing what  might  be  said  of  the  deepest  of  all  human 
affections,  that  of  the  conjugal  relationship.     We  drop 
this  subject,  therefore,  and  we  take  up  that  which 
stands  next  in  order,  namely,  the  parental  and  filial. 

684.  In  human  nature,  whatever  we  meet  with  that 
is  the  best  and  the  most  rare,  and  which  stands  highest 
in  the  scale  of  intelligence,  or  of  moral  action,  or  of 
feeling,  is  to  be  taken  as  the  genuine,  or  the  normal 


268  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

instance,  and  as  the  true  sample  of  the  mass.  What- 
ever falls  below  the  highest  mark  is  to  be  regarded  as 
a  departure  from  the  canon ;  it  is  an  accidental  abate- 
ment or  a  default  which  we  need  not  take  account  of. 
The  mean  instance  of  human  excellence  is  not  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  fair  sample  of  humanity  any  more  than 
we  should  take  as  a  representative  of  the  human  form 
an  individual,  one  of  whose  limbs  was  only  a  quarter 
of  an  inch  shorter  than  the  other ;  for  to  do  so  would 
not  be  warrantable  on  the  plea  that  men  may  be 
found  one  of  whose  limbs,  instead  of  a  quarter  of  an 
inch,  is  four  inches  shorter  than  the  other.  If  the 
question  be,  What  is  the  human  form?  we  answer, 
"  You  SCG  it  in  the  Apollo  and  in  the  Venus." 

685.  Or  if  the  question  be  this :  To  how  great  a 
remove  from  that  pure  selfism  of  which  a  dry  philos- 
ophy takes  account,  human  nature  may  advance,  we 
may  find  an  answer  among  instances  which,  if  they 
are  not  the  most  common,  are  far  from  being  infrequent 
— that  of  the  parent  and  the  child  ;  or  let  us  now  say, 
the  father  and  the  daughter.     In  many,  many  a  home, 
these  so  stand  related  in  love  as  that  the  self-thought 
of  both  has  passed  off,  and  can  be  detected  in  no  in- 
stance of  conduct  on  either  side.     If  we  thus  take  as 
our  instance  the  father  rather  than  the  mother,  it  is 
because  the  maternal  relationship  includes  an  instinc- 
tive fondness,  which  is  not  easily  set  off  when  we  are 
thinking  merely  of  the  parental  sentiment.     The  con- 
ditions of  a  parental  affection  into  the  composition  of 
which  there  enters  nothing  of  selfishness  are  these  two : 

686.  The  first  is  this,  that  the  personal  feeling  of 
the  two  beings  is  still  distinctly  conserved  by  aid  of 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS   OF   THE  SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    269 

those  reserves,  those  delicacies,  those  conventional 
habitudes  which  belong  to  the  paternal  and  filial  re- 
lationship ;  for  the  more  the  individuality  ot  any  two 
beings  is  conserved,  so  much  the  more  intense  will  be 
that  affection  which  binds  them  together,  and  which 
dispels  the  selfishness  of  both.  The  second  of  these 
conditions  is  this  :  that  the  cementing  love  of  the  two 
should  have  a  well-defined  channel  of  its  own,  not  open 
to  interference  from  any  bordering  affection.  The  pater- 
nal and  the  filial  fondness  may  run  parallel  with  other, 
and  even  with  some  much  more  vivid  affections,  and 
yet  may  maintain  its  entireness. 

687,  The  ordinary  occasions  of  domestic  life  do  not 
fail  to  call  forth  the  sympathies,  just  as  the  surface  of 
a  deep  water  is  rippled  by  the  showers  and  gusts  that 
pass  hourly  across  it.     These  sympathies,  deepened 
more  or  less  by  moral  habits,  may,  if  we  please,  be 
taken  as  inclusive  of  all  that  is  needed  to  bind  together 
the  members  of  a  family.     And,  indeed,  in  many  in- 
stances there  is  nothing  more  ;  how,  then,  can  it  be 
proved  that  there  are  in  human  nature  any  depths 
deeper  than  these  ?     This  can  not  be  proved ;  for  what 
we  intend  more  than  this  is  a  simple  element  of  con- 
sciousness, which   has    no    constituents,  and  which, 
therefore,  can  admit  of  no  verbal  explication. 

688.  Moral  considerations,  religious  motives  also, 
and  the  exercise  of  the  sympathies,  are  proper  means 
for  correcting  whatever  there   may  be   of  self-love 
amounting  to  selfishness.     This  sort  of  counteraction 
there  may  be  room  for  even  among  the  unselfish.     But 
self-love  or  self-seeking,  whether  it  tends  toward  self- 
ishness or  not,  yields  to  a  far  more  thorough  process 


27C  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

of  exclusion  than  this  when  an  affection  of  the  purer 
kind  supervenes,  and  leaves  no  place  for  emotions  of 
inferior  quality. 

689.  A  style  of  behavior  and  a  course  of  conduct 
springing  from  an  affection  of  this  kind  between  father 
and  daughter  may,  to  the  eye,  be  scarcely  distinguish- 
able from  a  style  of  behavior  and  a  course  of  conduct 
which  has  its  rise  in  reasons  and  motives  of  a  very 
different  order,  namely,  from    a    sense  of  duty,  and 
from  a  conscientious  regard  to  the  fifth  commandment. 
Filial  duty,  when  it  is  thus  based  upon  piety,  is  always 
to  be  commended  ;  nor  shall  it  fail  of  its  reward.    But 
this  species  of  affection  and  this  order  of  behavior  is 
wide  of  our  subject ;  for  what  we  are  intending  is  a 
blending  and  welding  in  human  nature  which  NATURE 
herself  provides  for,  and  which  may  or  may  not  in- 
clude the  moral  virtues. 

690.  It  is  under  its  purely  physical  aspect  that  we 
are  now  making  inquiry  concerning  the  structure  and 
functions  of  the  human  mind  as  socially  constituted. 
Now  this  structure  includes  and  provides  for  the  de- 
velopment of  affections  in  the  depths  of  which  self- 
emotions  are  superseded,  or  are  subjected  to  a  process 
of  entire  sublimation. 

691.  The  particular  case  we  have  adduced  above 
has  just  this  argumentative  value,  that  it  offers  itself 
in  a  more  distinct  and  a  less  ambiguous  manner  than 
some  other  cases ;  but  with  those  whose  own  con- 
sciousness supplies  them  with  parallel  instances,  this 
one  will  be  accepted  as  proof  enough  of  our  doctrine 
concerning  human  nature.     Grant  it  as  true  that  MIND 
in  man  includes  emotions  and  affections  to  which  no 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS   OF   THE   SOCIAL  SYSTEM.    271 

process  of  analysis,  resting  on  the  hypothesis  of  self- 
ism,  is  applicable,  and  then  we  have  the  key  to  a  world 
of  facts  in  human  history,  private  and  public,  which 
otherwise  are  wholly  inexplicable. 

692.  It  is  not  merely  in  the  secluded  world  of  the 
home  affections,  but  it  is  also  in  the  noisy  world  of 
common  life,  and  it  is  on  the  conspicuous  theatre  of 
historic  life,  that  we  may  find,  if  not  thousands  of  in- 
stances, yet  tens  of  instances  of  great  actions,  patient 
endeavors,  immolations,  silent  heroisms,  in  explication 
of  which  we  must  either  frankly  accept  a  deep-going 
theory  of  human  nature,  or,  if  we  will  not  do  so,  then 
we  must  be  content  cynically  to  shrug  the  shoulders, 
and  bring  our  speculations  to  a  close  in  such  terms  as 
these :  Surely  human  nature,  such  as  it  displays  itself 
in  some  men  and  women,  is  a  most  unaccountable  af- 
fair ;  for  myself,  I  am  no  hero,  and  shall  never  act  the 
martyr;   nor  do  I  profess  to  understand  any  sort  of 
behavior  which  a  reasonable  man  can  never  make  in- 
telligible to  himself  as  related  to  himself" 

693.  The  World  of  Mind,  regarded  physically,  ex- 
hibits a  process  ordained  of  Nature,  the  intention  of 
which  is  to  raise  upon  the  elements  of  the  individual 
life  the  broad  and  multiform  superstructure  of  the  so- 
cial life,  and  to  give  this  foundation  an  almost  unfath- 
omable depth. 

694.  The  order  of  Nature  in  pursuit  of  this  end  is 
this,  as  We  have  in  part  already  traced  it — personal 
consciousness,  with  its  well-defined  feeling  of  individ- 
uality, is  promoted  by  that  early  interaction  of  the  ac- 
tive and  passive  rudiments  of  Mind  of  which  we  have 
spoken  (343-349, 364).   The  varying  incidents  of  com- 


272  THE   WOKLD   OF   MIND. 

mon  life,  with  its  alternations  of  good  and  ill,  give  a 
still  more  decisive  form  to  the  same  concentrative  hab- 
it, and  serve  to  build  up  the  individual  man.  Every 
day's  intercourse  with  others  has  the  same  effect :  mo- 
tives of  reserve,  even  toward  the  most  intimate  among 
these,  strengthens  and  consolidates  the  munition  within 
which  the  individual  plants  himself  and  holds  his  own. 

695.  This  process  of  individualization  is  a  neces- 
sary preparation  for  sustaining  the  superstructure  of 
the  social  emotions  and  affections.     There  must  be  a 
fixed  reticence,  and  a  seclusive  and  repellent  feeling 
where  there  are  to  be  social  habitudes,  and  a  binding 
together  by  the  cement  of  deep-felt  affections.     Apart 
from  this  personal  insulation — this  conscious  inde- 
pendence— this  repulsion,  men  might,  indeed,  herd  to- 
gether as  do  gregarious  animals,  but  they  would  not 
congregate  or  become  cemented  in  families. 

696.  Inroads  are  soon  made  upon  this  seclusive  feel- 
ing,  first  by  the  urgent  wants  and  the  conscious  weak- 
nesses of  the  individual,  and  then  by  his  spontaneous 
sympathies  toward  others  in  their  wants  and  suffer- 
ings.    These  emotions,  which  (except  with  inert  and 
brute-like  natures)  are  involuntary  and  instantaneous 
as  well  as  powerful,  open  for  themselves  a  passage  into 
the  citadel  of  the  personal  reserve :  a  breach  is  made 
in  the  wall,  and  the  man  becomes  a  social  being. 

697.  When  once  the  social  element  is  quickened, 
then  the  emotions  and  affections  that  belong 'to  it 
spread  themselves  out  in  all  directions,  and  lay  hold 
of  whatever  it  may  be  around  them  to  which  they  can 
attach  their  tendrils.     While  it  is  in  tho  nature  of 
selfishness  to  compact  itself  more  and  more  every  day, 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS   OF   THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    273 

it  is  in  the  nature  of  the  social  sympathies  and  affec- 
tions to  strengthen  themselves  continually  by  expan- 
sion and  amplification,  and  by  a  softening,  and  a 
growth,  and  a  striking  of  their  roots  deeper,  and  send- 
ing them  further. 

698.  Whatever  may  be  the  requirements  of  virtue, 
they  can  only  be  such  as  are  in  conformity  with  the 
original  structure  of  the  human  mind.     We  have  al- 
ready affirmed  (216-221)  that  a  consistent  belief  of 
the  reality  of  a  moral  system  demands  the  doctrine  of 
the  initiative  causality  of  Mind — a  doctrine  to  be  held 
in  the  most  absolute  and  unexceptive  sense.    What  we 
have  now  to  affirm  is  this,  that  VIRTUE,  if  it  is  to  be  a 
reality,  and  is  to  be  in  harmony  with  the  structure  of 
the  human  mind,  must  assume  the  physical  fact  that 
the  social  sympathies  and  affections  in  man  are  direct 
emanations^  and  that  when  they  are  genuine,  or  so  far 
as  they  are  genuine,  they  include  no  reflective  or  re- 
verberative  reaction  upon  self — no  calculations  of  con- 
sequences affecting  self.     The  sympathies  and  the  af- 
fections, so  far  as  they  are  true,  are  also  pure  rudiments 
upon  which  Virtue  rests  its  requirements,  or,  as  we 
might  say,  they  are  elements  which  Virtue  finds,  and 
which  it  takes  up  and  assimilates. 

699.  Frequent  and  grievous  have  ever  been  the 
complaints  of  the  apathy  and  the  selfishness  of  man- 
kind.   But  what  is  the  interpretation  which  we  should 
put  upon  'these  petulant  moanings  (and  for  which,  in 
fact,  there  may  be  ground  enough)  ?     It  is  this  :  That 
whereas  in  every  human  heart  there  is  some  conscious- 
ness of  that  which  belongs  to  human  nature  by  its 
very  structure,  namely,  pure  sympathies  and  unselfish 

M  2 


274  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

affections,  we  do  not  always  meet  them  when  and  where 
they  are  needed.  If,  in  fact,  there  were  no  such  deep- 
seated  and  instinctive  belief,  never  would  any  com- 
plaint of  this  kind  have  been  uttered. 

700.  We  all  echo  these  complaints  as  often  as  oc- 
casions arise,  and  it  is  scarcely  any  number  of  disap- 
pointments that  avail  to  rob  us  of  that  inbred  belief 
whence  they  take  their  rise.     The  misanthrope  is  the 
dissatisfied  man  who  has   often  and  often  quarreled 
with  himself  for  retaining  it  so  long :  he  is  ever  and 
again  calling  himself  a  fool  for  his  own  obstination  in 
continuing  to  think  well  of  his  fellows. 

701.  To  save  us  from  these  recurrent  disappoint- 
ments, and  effectively  to  drive  us  off  from  the  ground 
where  they  spring  up,  the  philosopher — the  strict  an- 
alyst of  human  nature — proffers  his  services.     He  as- 
sures us  that  we  have  only  ourselves  to  blame  for  lis- 
tening to  fine  verbiage  about  generosity  and  disinter- 
estedness, and  about  honest  philanthropy.    The  honest 
man,  and  the  only  one,  he  says,  is  he  who,  while  he 
makes  open  profession  of  the  purest  selfishness,  takes 
care  that  his  language  and  his  conduct  shall  always  be 
in  perfect  accordance  on  this  ground.     The  philoso- 
pher assures  us — he  has  done  so  in  every  age,  and  he 
is  doing  it  now — that,  having  submitted  human  mo- 
tives to  a  process  of  exact  analysis,  he  finds  nothing 
among  them  that  does  not  turn  out  to  be  a  form  or  a 
product  of  self-love — nothing  that  is  not  reducible  to 
the  reflex  motive  of  a  desire  for  our  own  individual 
well-being. 

702.  The  philosopher  of  this  school  has  never  failed 
to  find  among  his  contemporaries  those  who  become 


CEMENTING   EMOTIONS   OF   THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    275 

his  coadjutors  as  brilliant  popular  writers,  and  who,  in 
sparkling  style,  go  about  to  prove  that  all  men  are,  in 
fact,  as  frivolous  or  as  base  as  the  basest  and  the  most 
frivolous  of  men  know  themselves  to  be.  Popular  fic- 
tion usually  takes  this  level  ground,  and  charges  itself 
with  the  task  of  proving  that  human  nature  is  a  flimsy 
manufacturer  of  cardboard,  gold  leaf,  paint,  and  varnish. 

703.  This  philosophy  and  its  attendant  satire  has 
held  the  same  language  in  every  age.     The  cream  of 
both  may  be  found  in  so  small  a  book  as  that  contain- 
ing the  moral  maxims  of  La  Rochefoucauld.     These 
"  Moral  Maxims"  might  be  made  use  of  as  a  test  of 
the  quality  of  minds.     By  the  natively  base  and  the 
debauched  they  will  be  swallowed  as  a  sweet  morsel, 
feeding  self-complacency  where  self-respect  has  never 
been.     As  to  souls  of  a  middle  and  better  order,  and 
who  yet  cling  to  what  is  fair  and  good,  such  will  peruse 
this  collection  with  a  melancholy  curiosity,  and  will 
tremble  as  they  read,  lest  while  they  are  compelled  to 
admit  the  exactness  and  precision  of  the  writer's  dis- 
sections, they  should,  in  reaching  the  end,  find  them- 
selves stripped  of  whatever  hitherto  has  served  to  rec- 
oncile them  to  existence,  and  has  given  hopefulness  to 
their  better  purposes.     As  to  vigorous  and  healthfully 
constituted  minds,  such  will  quickly  throw  these  soph- 
isms from  them  in  contempt,  and  will  think  it  enough 
to  recall  the  writer's  position  and  training,  whose  mis- 
fortune it.  was  to  have  seen  nothing  of  humanity  but 
what  he  conversed  with  in  the  pestilential  stews  of  the 
most  corrupt  of  profligate  courts. 

704.  Books  of  this  class,  whether  philosophic  or 
popular,  are,  in  fact,  a  homage   rendered   to  virtue. 


276  THE   WOKLD   OF   MIND. 

There  would  be  no  mockery  in  a  world  in  which  there 
was  no  reality ;  there  would  be  no  satire  if  there  were 
no  goodness  and  truth.  There  would  have  been  no 
negative  philosophies  if  there  were  not  in  human  na- 
ture substance  and  a  ground  on  which  a  positive  mo- 
rality may  be  reared. 

705.  It  is  a  safe  principle,  already  affirmed,  and  to 
which  we  might  attribute  the  authority  of  an  axiom  in 
Mental  Philosophy,  that  when  A  BELIEF,  which  is  spon- 
taneous and  universal,  works  in  with  the  functions  of 
the  intellectual  and  moral  life,  and  promotes  their  har- 
monious interaction,  such  a  belief  is  not  an  illusion, 
but  a  reality ;  it  is  a  truth. 

706.  If  this  rule  be  valid,  in  no  case  is  its  applica- 
tion of  more  serious  consequence  than  in  the  bearing 
it  takes  upon  this  question  of  the  genuineness  of  the 
benign  social  emotions  and  affections.     Let  the  doc- 
trine be  zealously  promulgated  in  philosophic  writings 
and  in  popular  literature  that  nothing  is  real  but  self- 
love — selfishness  ;  and  then,  so  far  as  this  teaching  is 
listened  to,  it  will  speedily  make  men  as  cold  and  self- 
ish as  it  tells  them  that  they  are.     This  is  a  result 
that  has  been  realized  often  in  the  history  of  highly 
sophisticated  communities ;  it  is  a  process  that  is  al- 
ways going  on  where  the  literary  taste  of  a  people  has 
become  vitiated  by  an  abundance  of  frivolous  and  sar- 
castic fiction.     On  the  contrary,  let  domestic  training 
and  public  instruction  confidently  assume  and  firmly 
maintain  the  belief  of  the  genuineness — the  simplicity 
— the  reality  of  those  sympathies  which  prompt  us  to 
aid  each  other  in  suffering,  and  of  those  profound  affec- 
tions which  cement  the  family  relationships,  and  which 


ANTAGONIST   EMOTIONS   OF  THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.  277 

give  warmth  and  intensity  to  the  endearments  of  home 
— let  children  and  youths  be  thus  taught,  and  the  re- 
ality which  we  affirm  will  actually  come  into  being,  and 
flourish  around  us,  and  will  show  its  presence  in  the 
genial  happiness  it  diffuses.  BELIEVE  IN  LOVE,  and 
you  will  love  and  be  loved. 


XIX. 

ANTAGONISTIC   EMOTIONS   OF   THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM. 

707.  THE  intelligible  distinction  between  Anatomy 
and   Morbid  Anatomy,  between  Animal  Physiology 
and  Nosology,  is  always  regarded  by  writers  in  those 
departments  of  science.      Whatever  belongs  to  the 
original  structure  of  animal  life,  and  which  is  essen- 
tial to  its  functions,  may  easily  be  described  and  set 
forth  apart  from  those  irregular  forms  and  those  dis- 
turbed modes   of  action  which  take  place  in  conse- 
quence either  of  violence  or  of  disease,  and  with  which 
the  surgeon  and  the  physician  have  to  do. 

708.  A   distinction  quite  of  the  same  kind,  and 
which  is  as  easily  observed,  should  always  be  kept  in 
view  in  relation  to  our  present  subject.     Whatever 
manifestly  belongs  to  the  structure  of  the  Mind,  and 
which  we  can  not  well  imagine  to  be  separable  from 
it,  at  least  while  it  is  conjoined  with  animal  organiza- 
tion, we  claim  as  our  proper  province  in  this  element- 
ary book.     Therefore  it  is  that,  after  speaking  of  the 
Social  Emotions,  and  these  chiefly  in  their  benign  as- 
pect, we  should  say  something — or  something  more 


278  THE  WORLD   OF  MIND. 

than  has  been  said — of  those  antagonistic  emotions 
which  act  as  repellent  forces  within  the  same  system. 
The  leading  emotion  of  this  class — Anger — we  have 
already  referred  to  as  necessary  to  the  defense  of  ani- 
mal life  (608),  coming  in,  as  it  does,  to  sustain  and  to 
invigorate  the  instinct  of  self-preservation. 

709.  But  on  this  ground  we  advance  only  a  few 
steps  "before  we  touch  our  limit  as  above  mentioned. 
The  antagonistic  or  protective  emotions,  indispensable 
as  they  are  to  the  conservation  of  a  scheme  of  life 
such  as  that  of  this  world,  axz  proper  to  it  only  while 
they  preserve  their  characteristic  evanescence ;  the  ac- 
cess  of  the  intensity  of  feeling  should  be  transient. 
When  these  emotions  become  congested,  when  they 
lengthen  themselves  out  and  survive  the  immediate 
occasion,  and  when,  in  doing  so,  they  pass  into  the 
form   of  affections,  dispositions,  tempers,  then  they 
have  gone  beyond  our  range,  and  we  assign  the  treat- 
ment of  them  to  the  moralist  and  the  religious  teacher. 

710.  Defensive  anger,  if  it  be  cherished  and  con- 
served, soon  ceases  to  be  Anger,  for  it  undergoes  a 
speedy  transmutation,  and,  according  to  the  tempera- 
ment and  the  animal  tendencies  of  the  man,  it  becomes 
chronical  and  malignant ;  in  the  forms  of  hatred,  envy, 
jealousy,  it  wraps  itself  around  in  purposes  of  revenge. 
Sometimes  it  sinks  into  domestic  petulance ;  some- 
times it  flames  out  and  sets  the  wide  world  on  fire  in 
modes  of  ambitious  destructiveness.     Defensive  anger, 
thus  transmuted  and  become  a  temper,  when  it  com- 
bines itself  with  an  inordinate  self-esteem,  marks  itself 
upon  the  countenance  and  demeanor  as  a  sullen  pride. 
Sullen  pride,  when  it  has  chanced  to  incase  a  too 


ANTAGONIST   EMOTIONS   OF  THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    279 

sensitive  nature,  and  has  met  injustice  and  ingrati- 
tude, fixes  itself  upon  the  unhappy  "being  whom  we 
shun  as  the  misanthrope. 

711.  But  we  may  well  take  leave  to  stand  aloof 
from  all  subjects  of  this  class :  they  implicate  many 
inquiries  which  are  physiological  rather  than  intellect- 
ual ;  and,  more  than  this,  they  are  not  to  be  parted  off 
from  considerations  which  have  a  moral  and  religious 
aspect.     We  should  not  merely  err  in  a  scientific 
sense,  but  should  give  countenance  to  the  most  serious 
misconceptions  as  to  the  grounds  of  virtue  and  piety 
if  we  should  take  in  hand  the  task  of  digesting  a  phi- 
losophy of  evil  dispositions  and  bad  tempers  on  any 
principles  that  are  merely  physical. 

712.  Some  ennobling  emotions  which  are  of  the 
highest  utility  in  relation  to  the  welfare  and  progress 
of  nations  must  find  a  place  in  this  section,  although 
it  is  only  in  an  indirect  sense  that  they  can  be  desig- 
nated as  antagonistic.     The  desire  of  approbation,  and 
ambition,  and  the  love   of  power,  and  the  thirst  for 
posthumous  fame — these  generous  impulses,  and  many 
varieties  of  them,  connect  the  individual  man  with  his 
fellows ;  they  give  rise  to  feelings  which  are  recipro- 
cal, and  the  sentiments  which  thence  take  their  rise 
are  generally  of  a  benign  complexion.     Why,  then,  do 
we  class  them  with  such  as  are  merely  repellent  ? 

713.  The  reason  of  such  an  assortment  is  this :  that 
whereas  the  purely  social  affections — love  and  sym- 
pathy, and  the  domestic  instincts — are  wholly  of  a 
cementing  quality,  those  which  we  have  now  to  speak 
of  do  not  take  effect  cohesively  until  after  they  have 
acted  as  repellent  forces.     The  germ  of  these  emotions 


280  THE  WOKLD   OF  MIND. 

is  an  enlarged  self-love,  or  it  may  better  be  called  a 
more  intense  individualism.  Minds  of  this  order,  and 
it  is  often  the  choicest  minds  that  are  peculiarly  alive 
to  the  love  of  approbation,  to  emulation,  to  ambition, 
and  the  love  of  power,  are,  more  than  others,  self-re- 
gardful, and  yet  they  may  not  be,  in  an  evil  sense, 
selfish. 

714.  Not  only  is  the  germ  of  these  emotions  repel- 
lent, but,  as  they  have  a  peculiar  aptitude  to  run  into 
an  exaggerated  form,  they  easily  become,  in  a  vicious 
sense,  anti-social.     From  out  of  these  feelings  dispo- 
sitions too  often  grow  which  choke  whatever  is  benev- 
olent, generous,  and  disinterested. 

715.  Hence  it  has  happened  that  moralists  of  a  cer- 
tain class,  in  their  anxiety  to  secure  the  integrity  of 
virtue,  have  not  scrupled  to  denounce  these  powerful 
impulses  as  altogether  and  in  every  sense  evil,  and 
they  have  sternly  demanded  their  excision  to  the  very 
roots. 

716.  It  is  easy  to  show  that  this  demand,  springing 
as  it  does  from  an  overdone  zeal,  and  instigated  by  a 
sophisticated  morality,  is  such  that,  if  it  were  allowed 
to  take  its  course,  instead  of  eradicating  these  instinct- 
ive emotions,  it  would  give  us,  in  the  place  of  an  open- 
faced  ambition,  confessed  and  recognized  as  noble  and 
praiseworthy,  the   changeful  colors   of  a  profoundly 
selfish  hypocrisy. 

717.  What  are  the  facts?     The  thirst  of  applause, 
the  desire  of  fame,  the  love l  of  power — these,  and  the 
many  kindred  feelings  which  are  characteristic  of  a 
class  of  minds — the  few,  are,  in  truth  the  correlatives 
of  those  involuntary  emotions  which  impel  all  men  to 


ANTAGONIST  EMOTIONS   OF  THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    281 

admire  whatever  in  work,  in  achievement,  in  conduct, 
is  indeed  worthy  of  admiration — whatever  is  pre-emi- 
nently good,  or  beautiful,  or  beneficial.  Severe  mor- 
alists, therefore,  who  would  apply  lunar  caustic  to  am- 
bition and  to  the  love  of  praise,  should  begin  their 
work  by  showing  the  multitude  how  they  may  go 
about  to  repress  the  irresistible  impulse  to  admire, 
and  to  say  aloud  that  they  admire  what  is  great — 
noble ;  whatever  genius  has  imagined  and  patient  as- 
siduity has  realized  on  the  field  of  art  or  on  the  stage 
of  public  life. 

718.  Should  we  not  think  it  a  preposterous  endeav- 
or to  quash  admiration  in  the  breasts  of  men  and  to  put 
it  to  silence  ?     Yet  so  long  as  all  men  feel  what  they 
can  not  but  feel,  and  so  long  as,  with  a  frank  and  gen- 
erous candor,  they  give  utterance  to  these  feelings,  then 
what  sort  of  self-denial  is  it  which  the  moralist  im- 
poses upon  the  gifted  man  upon  whom  the  grateful 
eyes  of  thousands  of  his  fellows  are  turned  ?     Is  it  a 
possible  act  ?    If  it  be  said,  "  Give  glory  to  God,"  we 
heartily  assent  to  this  religious  injunction ;  but  the 
man  will  have  nothing  to  give  until  after  he  has  felt 
that  it  is  glory  which  has  come  into  his  keeping,  and 
which  he  may  now  lay  upon  the  altar. 

719.  But  if,  indeed,  we  could  quash  admiration,  or 
if  we  could  interdict  the  utterance  of  it,  or  if  we  could 
stop  the  ears  of  those  who  labor  to  win  it,  what  will 
then  become  of  the  social  system?     To  whom  are 
communities  to  look  for  promoting  their  advancement  ? 
How  shall  the  minds  of  the  many  be  fed,  taught,  lifted 
from  the  savage  and  the  sensual  condition?     Crude 
motives,  either  of  urgent  necessity  or  of  mere  pay,  will 


282  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

not  give  us  those  very  things  which  are  the  most  need- 
ed if  MIND  is  to  "be  mind,  and  if  the  life  of  thought 
and  feeling  is  to  prevail  over  the  brute  life  of  appetite 
and  instinct.  All  that  is  best  in  every  kind,  all  that 
is  rare,  and  whatever  it  is  among  the  products  of  hu- 
man labor  which  we  gaze  upon  with  delight  and  won- 
der— all  these  fruits  of  mind — all  must  be  foregone, 
must  be  forgotten,  and  must  never  again  be  sought  for 
or  desired,  if  we  may  not  allow  the  desire  of  fame  and 
ambition,  and  the  love  of  power,  to  take  the  place  that 
is  due  to  them  in  our  morality. 

720.  Among  these  impulses,  the  one  which  would 
be  singled  out  as  the  most  open  to  reprehension  in  the 
view  of  the  severe  moralist  is  the  love  of  power,  or  the 
ambition  to  occupy  the  place  of  command  in  the  gov- 
ernment of  nations.     But  if  we  denounce  the  love  of 
power  as  essentially  vicious,  and  if  such  denunciations 
come  to  be  generally  accepted  as  proper,  then  what 
must  follow  is  this — that  seats  of  power  will  be  seized 
upon  by  men  who  avowedly  are  destitute  of  virtue,  and 
whose  only  law  is  self-love.     This  is  certain,  that  na- 
tions must  be  governed — the  many  by  the  few.     We 
ought,  therefore,  to  invite  to  the  competition  the  best 
and  the  highest  spirits. 

721.  From  another  quarter,  ambition  and  the  love 
of  power  sometimes  receive  an  interpretation  which 
can  not  fail  to  vitiate  them,  and  so  to  damage  the 
commonwealth.     Writers  of  a  certain  school,  in  pro- 
fessing to  analyze  these  impulses  in  the  strictest  man- 
ner, declare  that  they  are  modes  only  of  that  omnipres- 
ent selfism  which  prompts  every  man  to  secure  for 
himself  the  greatest  possible  amount  of  the  substan- 


ANTAGONIST  EMOTIONS  OF  THE  SOCIAL  SYSTEM.    283 

tial  good  things  of  life.  Inasmuch  as  the  holder  of 
power  may  easily  accumulate  wealth,  and  so  may 
largely  command  the  services  of  other  men,  power,  it 
is  said,  comes  to  be  an  object  of  desire,  coveted  alike 
byaU. 

722.  Thus  to  resolve  ambition  into  the  lowest  spe- 
cies of  self-love,  and  thus  to  materialize  it,  is  infalli- 
bly to  bring  about  a  result  nearly  the  same  as  that 
which  attends  the  mistaken  denunciations  of  the  mor- 
alist above  referred  to.     If  ambition  be  only  a  dis- 
guised desire  of  sensuous  enjoyments,  then  the  strong 
and  the  wicked,  and  none  else,  will  contend  for  scep- 
tres :  the  wise  and  the  noble,  if,  indeed,  they  could  be 
persuaded  to  yield  their  better  convictions  to  such 
doctrines,  would  stand  aloof  from  the  strife. 

723.  We  should  trace  the  love  of  power,  or  call  it 
Ambition,  to  another  source.     In  accordance  with  the 
guiding  principle  that  is  adhered  to  throughout  this 
book,  as  we  understand  human  nature  in  a  more  posi- 
tive sense,  so  we  boldly  give  it  a  more  generous  in- 
terpretation. 

724.  That  which  is  of  the  very  essence  of  Mind — 
that  which  is  its  primary  rudiment,  becomes  the  prom- 
inent distinction  or  individual  characteristic  of  a  few 
minds :  sometimes  in  combination  with  the  tranquil 
intellectual  emotions  (Section  XII.),  sometimes  as  re- 
lated to  the  pursuits  of  common  life,  where  the  most 
ordinary  motives  take  effect,  and  sometimes  in  alliance 
with  those  social  emotions  which  bring  the  individual 
man  into  a  position  of  tacit  contrariety  with  his  fel- 
low-men, as  above  mentioned. 

725.  Ambition  accomplished,  the  desire  of  power 


284  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

achieved,  command  or  influence  over  other  men  attain- 
ed, the  disposal  of  great  affairs  fully  enjoyed — all  this 
done,  and  then  a  mind  of  rare  energy  becomes  a  sam- 
ple mind,  and  is  in  that  very  condition  which  is  the 
most  characteristic  of  its  nature. 

726.  The  accessories  of  power  or  its  ostensible  re- 
wards— its  glitter  and  its  pomps,  its  luxurious  table, 
its  soft  indulgences — all  these  things  are  of  the  surface 
only,  and  those  must  have  gone  but  a  little  way  into 
the  depths  of  human  nature  who  tell  us  that  it  is  for 
the  sake  of  its   bonbons  and  its  trinkets  that  great 
minds  tread  the  arduous  ascents  of  ambition.     In  the 
large  meaning  of  the  Ego  of  those  noted  words,  Ego 
et  rex  meus,  there  might  have  been  embraced  the  car- 
dinal's feastings,  and  his  retinue,  and  aught  else  of  the 
sort  which  he  relished  and  allowed  ;  but  the  substance 
which  they  represent  was  a  quality  of  the  soul  that  be- 
longed to  the  butcher's  boy  at  Ipswich. 

727.  It  is  thus  that  an  effective  achievement  of  the 
painful,  the  dangerous,  the  patience-trying  work  of  the 
world  is  provided  for  and  is  made  sure.     But  how 
much  of  this  enormous  task  would  actually  be  under- 
taken, or,  if  undertaken,  would  ever  be  completed,  if 
men  set  themselves  to  it  at  the  impulse  of  no  motives 
of  deeper  origin  or  of  greater  intensity  than  are  those 
which  impel  the  day-laborer  to  acquit  himself  of  his 
day's  labor  ?     Scarcely  a  thousandth  part  of  it,  and 
that  fraction  poorly  done.    t 

728.  As  to  the  moralities  of  ambition  or  its  immo- 
ralities, we  have  nothing  to  do  with  subjects  of  that 
class  in  this  place.     But  there  is  nothing  which  the 
most  severe  teacher  could  allege  in  the  way  of  repre- 


ANTAGONIST   EMOTIONS   OF  THE   SOCIAL   SYSTEM.    285 

hension  or  of  caution  which  could  avail  to  dislodge 
from  its  place,  in  the  economy  of  the  social  system, 
this  principal  element  of  the  world  of  mind. 

729.  For  carrying  forward  the  various  purposes,  and 
for  securing  all  the  interests  of  a  community  that  is 
advanced  in  civilization,  there  is  very  much  work  to  be 
done,  for  the  doing  of  which  no  provision  is  made*  un- 
less we  include  that  set  of  motives,  affecting  a  few 
minds,  of  which  now  we  are  speaking. 

730.  The  rough  work  of  the  world  is  sure  to  be 
done  sufficiently  well  at  the  prompting  of  those  mo- 
tives which  impel  every  man  to  do  the  best  he  can  for 
himself.     These  universal  motives  take  effect  alike 
upon  the  lad  who  sweeps  a  crossing  and  upon  an  un- 
der secretary  of  state.     Another  class  of  the  common 
interests  of  a  community  will  be  cared  for  and  made 
good  by  those  who,  while  laboring,  in  fact,  for  their 
fellow-men,  are  thinking  only  of  their  individual  tastes 
in  doing  so.     It  is  thus  that  much  of  the  intellectual 
work  of  a  people  is  prosecuted  in  the  fields  of  philos- 
ophy, poetry,  and  the  fine  arts. 

731.  But  beyond  these  labors,  thus  provided  for, 
there  is  very  much  to  be  done  which  will  not  be  done 
unless  we  can  engage  in  the  service  of  the  common- 
wealth a  class  of  minds  governed  by  motives  that  are 
neither  ordinary  nor  calculating,  in  the  vulgar  sense 
of  that  term.     There  is  need  of  men  whose  motives, 
consolidated-  into  habits  and  dispositions,  will  carry 
them  through  services  from  which  the  selfish,  and  the 
sordid,  and  the  prudent  too,  will  draw  back.     We  need 
the  services  of  men  whose  biographies  are  hereafter  to 
come  into  the  hands  of  the  historian. 


286  THE    WOELD   OF   MIND. 

732.  But  men  such  as  these  will  never  be  forth- 
coming, if,  on  the  one  hand,  ambition,  and  the  thirst 
of  fame,  and  the  love  of  power,  be  denounced  as  essen- 
tially vicious,  or  if,  on  the  other  hand,  these  emotions 
and  passions  are  so  spoken  of  in  the  literature  of  a 
people  as  to  vilify  and  vulgarize  them,  and  to  put  a 
degrading  interpretation  upon  any  course   of  action 
which  springs  from  them. 

733.  Public  services  are  performed  efficiently  by 
none  but  those  who  have  wittingly  pledged  life  and 
fortune  from  the  very  first.     These  achievements  and 
labors  are  always  of  a  kind  that  imperil  life  and  health, 
and  that  invade  or  quite  preclude  domestic  felicity ; 
they  are  to  be  carried  forward  under  extreme  discour- 
agements ;  often  in  the  face  of  rancorous  and  unscru- 
pulous opposition ;  and  they  may  bring  upon  a  man 
calumnies  which  it  is  never  permitted  him  to  refute. 
At  the  end  of  his  course,  perhaps,  he  stands  "  begging 
a  little  earth  to  cover  him,"  uncertain  whether  the  men 
of  the  next  age  shall  care  to  hear  his  cause  anew,  and 
shall  reverse  the  unrighteous  sentence  of  his  contem- 
poraries. 

734.  Yet,  unless  services  of  this  order  are  freely 
undertaken,  and  are  well  and  nobly  achieved,  the  world 
must  come  to  a  stand ;  or,  if  not,  public  functions  of 
every  kind  must  be  abandoned  to  those  whose  base- 
ness will  utterly  vitiate  the  social  mass  throughout  all 
ranks. 

735.  What  we  now  affirm  is  just  this — that  in  the 
structure  and  the  functions  of  the  social  system  there 
is  needed,  and  there  is  actually  found,  an  impulse,  tak- 
ing effect  upon  a  few  minds,  which  will  carry  the  man 


ANTAGONIST   EMOTIONS   OF  THE   SOCIAL  SYSTEM.   287 

forward  far  in  advance  of  every  other  motive,  and  far 
in  advance  of  a  prudent  regard  to  his  individual  wel- 
fare. This  we  allege  to  be  the  very  characteristic  of 
genuine  ambition  and  of  the  true  desire  of  power. 
Spurious  ambition  and  the  vulgar  lust  of  power,  if 
ever  they  seem  to  be  self-sacrificing,  are  so  only  at  the 
instigation  of  conventional  feelings,  the  fear  of  dis- 
grace, or  a  blind  compliance  with  the  rules  and  usages 
of  professional  behavior. 

736.  But  has  not  this  element  of  human  nature  a 
further  significance?     Does  it  not  point  forward  to 
another  state  of  things  ?     He  who  throws  himself  into 
public  services  not  merely  at  the  risk,  but  at  the  cost 
of  all  the  things  of  earth,  does  he  not  proclaim  a  truth 
which  speaks  of  those  things  that  are  not  of  earth  ? 
To  attempt  an  answer  of  these  suggestive  questions 
would  carry  us  quite  beyond  the  range  of  our  present 
task. 

737.  We  return,  then,  to  the  things  of  earth,  and  in 
doing  so  should  note  this  property  of  a  genuine  and 
self-immolating  ambition :  that  as  it  is  open  to  a  some- 
thing beyond — to  a  something  in  the  remote  future 
which  is  undefined,  and  as  it  has  a  consciousness  to- 
ward the  infinite,  it  readily  coalesces  with  every  species 
of  advancement  and  improvement,  in  moral  principles 
and  in  feeling,  which  is  going  on  around  it.     To  this 
genuine  and  non-selfish  ambition  there  belongs  a  nat- 
ural buoyancy ;  it  has  an  upward  and  a  forward  look ; 
it  asks  to  be  numbered!  with  the  imponderable  elements 
of  the  mundane  system.     Where,  on  any  side,  there  is 
the  most  vitality,  where  there  is  progress,  where  there 
is  any  commendable  enterprise  in  hand,  where  there  is 


288  THE  WORLD   OF  MIND. 

that  which  is  true,  that  which  is  honest,  that  which  is 
just,  that  which  is  pure,  that  which  is  lovely,  that 
which  is  of  good  report — wherever,  among  the  things 
of  earth,  there  may  be  found  any  virtue  and  any  praise, 
thitherward  will  a  genuine  ambition  and  an  instinctive 
love  of  power  move  on,  and  along  with  such  things 
will  it  push  forward ;  and  it  will  do  so  in  front  of  all 
perils,  and  at  any  cost,  and  with  a  seraph-like  determ- 
ination to  reach  the  goal. 


XX. 

EMOTIONS  AND   TASTES   EELATED   TO   THE   MODULA- 
TIONS  OF   SOUND. 

738.  UPON  the  field  of  Mental  Philosophy  the  same 
mystery  confronts  us  anew  almost  at  every  turn,  seem- 
ing as  if  it  were  about  to  reveal  itself,  and  yet  again 
mocking  our  endeavors  to  resolve  it.     The  interaction 
of  Mind  and  Matter  within  the  animal  organization 
sometimes  nears  the  surface,  and  yet  it  is  there  as  in- 
scrutable as  when  deeply  seated. 

739.  An  instance  of  this  sort  presents  itself  when 
we  inquire  concerning  the  power  of  modulated  sounds, 
whether  as  melody  or  harmony,  to  affect  the  mind. 
This  power  extends  not  merely  to  the  production  of 
pleasurable  organic  sensations,  but,  far  more  than  this, 
to  move  the  very  soul,  and  to  awaken  every  sentiment 
and  to  stir  every  passion  of  which  it  is  susceptible. 
This  power  conforms  itself  to  conditions  which  distin- 
guish it,  in  the  most  decisive  manner,  from  every  other 
kind  of  influence  affecting  the  senses.     Musical  sounds 


POWERS   OF   MUSIC.  289 

so  take  hold  of  the  mind  as  nothing  else  takes  hold 
of  it. 

740.  On  this  ground  we  are  invited  to  step  forward, 
step  by  step,  from  that  which  is  mechanical  and  mathe- 
matical, to  that  which,  in  the  loftiest  sense,  is  emo- 
tional ;  nevertheless,  the  precise  point  at  which  we 
pass  the  border  from  the  world  of  Matter  to  the  world 
of  Mind  escapes  our  keenest  search. 

741.  Those  articulate  modulations  of  the  human 
voice  which  are  made  available  for  the  purposes  of 
speech  are  not  in  themselves  pleasurable ;  they  are  not 
organically  pleasurable,  although  they  may  become  so 
by  aid  of  the  associated  ideas  and  feelings  which  they 
awaken.     If  we  include  all  the  tones  that  are  employed 
in  conveying  our  meaning  by  emphasis  as  well  as 
words,  the  variations  of  which  the  voice  is  capable 
are  innumerable ;  but  unless  they  are  subjected  to  the 
rules  of  rhythm  and  cadence,  and  so  become  musical, 
they  do  nothing  more  than  convey  the  mind  of  the 
speaker  to  the  mind  of  the  hearer. 

742.  Whether  a  single  note,  either  of  the  human 
voice  or  of  a  musical  instrument,  prolonged,  is  organic- 
ally pleasurable,  is  a  question  which  we  need  not  here 
discuss,  but  may  assume  the  affirmative.     It  is  certain 
(and  this  is  all  that  concerns  us  just  now)  that  success- 
ive sounds  and  simultaneous  sounds,  having  an  exact 
mathematical  relation  to  each  other  in  tone,  are  pleas- 
ure-giving in  a  high  degree.     Endlessly  varied  com- 
binations of  these  related  sounds  come  within  the 
compass  of  musical  composition,  but  the  element  is 
the  same  in  all ;  two  or  more  sounds  bear  to  each  other 
a  definite  relation  which  is  measurable  mechanically, 

N 


290  THE    WOULD    OF   MIND. 

and  which,  in  the  most  absolute  sense,  is  computable 
mathematically. 

743.  That  which,  in  each  instant  of  time,  falls  upon 
the  tympanum  when  we  listen  to  music,  is  a  combina- 
tion of  vibrations ;  and  of  the  precise  relation  of  the 
constituents  of  this  commingled  sound  the  human  ear 
is  cognizant  with  infallible  exactness. 

744.  The  laws  of  acoustics  are  subject  to  rigid 
mathematical  treatment,  and  the  laws  of  musical  rela- 
tion are  also  mathematically  known ;  but  these  laws 
carry  us  no  farther  in  explication  of  the  power  of  music 
over  the  feelings  and  passions  than  to  the  surface  of 
the  tympanum ;  all  beyond,  or  farther  in  than  this,  is 
a  terra  incognita,  until  we  come  into  the  Mind  itself, 
and  confer  with  it  in  its  own  soul-fraught  manner. 
From  the  exterior  coating  of  the  tympanum  the  next 
step  brings  us  to  a  soft  mass  of  non-vibratory  nervous 
substance,  attenuated   in   its   microscopic   filaments. 
Here,  then,  we  must  take  leave  of  what  is  measur- 
able and  mechanical,  for  we  have  set  foot  upon  the 
threshold  of  animal  organization.     We  have  passed 
from  the  department  of  one  science,  the  laws  of  sound, 
to  the  department  of  another  science,  the  laws  of  ani- 
mal organization ;  and  yet  this  latter  science  has  scarce- 
ly offered  us  its  aid,  when  it  declares  its  inability  to 
give  us  any  further  guidance.     We  have  already  gone 
over  from  the  region  of  a  nervous  expansion,  and  have 
reached  the  adytum  of  the  Percipient  Mind,  and  this 
mind  is  now,  perhaps,  in  a  state  of  consciousness  so 
intense  as  to  be  quite  vanquished  by  its  emotions. 

745.  The  Mind  percipient  of  sound  is,  with  exqui- 
site exactness,  cognizant  not  only  of  all  differences  of 


POWERS   OF   MUSIC.  291 

sound,  but  of  the  measurable  relations  of  sound  ;  and 
in  respect  of  these  it  is  intensely  sensitive,  both  pleas- 
urably  and  painfully,  toward  them,  as  true  or  not 
true,  mathematically  ;  and  then,  beyond  this,  it  is  alive 
throughout  the  wide  circuit  of  its  emotional  nature  up 
from  the  gentlest  sentiments  or  sympathies  to  the 
stormiest,  passions — to  the  suggestive  meaning  of  mel- 
ody and  of  harmony.  All  that  is  tender  in  feeling, 
and  all  that  is  tumultuous  in  passion,  all  that  attempers 
human  nature  by  soothing  excitements,  and  all  that 
maddens  it,  is  at  the  command  of  Music. 

746.  Thus  it  is,  then,  that,  within  the  compass  of 
a  paragraph,  we  name,  so  far  as  it  is  known  to  us,  all 
that  fills  the  space  between  the  outer  world  of  mathe- 
matical relations  and  the  inner  world  of  refined  feel- 
ing, and  of  pure  sentiment  and  of  impetuous  emotion  ; 
but  in  doing  so  we  fail  in  our  endeavor  to  lay  the  hand 
upon  some  midway  links  of  the  chain.     Our  part,  then, 
is  to  accept  this,  our  inability  to  reveal  the  unknown, 
and  to  follow  such  tracks  of  thought  as  are  open  to  us. 
Now  it  appears  that,  on  this  ground,  such  things  as 
the  following  are  open  to  us : 

747.  It  is  in  the  sense  of  Hearing  first,  and  next  in 
order,  as  we  shall  have  occasion  to  show,  in  the  sense 
of  Sight,  that  the  union  of  Mind  with  the  Animal  or- 
ganization, or  the  Corporeal  condition  of  Mind,  yields 
an  advantage  on  the  side  of  Mind  as  opposed  to  animal 
tendencies.     This  is  a  fact  which  deserves  attention. 

748.  Not  merely  for  enjoyment  sake,  but  for  secur- 
ing the  animal  conservation,  the  senses  of  Smell,  Taste, 
and  Touch  are  the  medium,  severally,  of  a  pleasurable 
consciousness.    But  in  each  instance,  as  to  these  senses, 


292  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

the  enjoyment  is  of  a  kind  which  lowers  rather  than 
raises  the  moral  being ;  it  is  such  as  needs  to  be  ad- 
mitted with  caution,  and  should  presently  be  dismissed : 
just  so  far  as  it  rules  the  man,  it  degrades  him. 

749.  The  pleasurable  sensations  of  hearing  and  of 
sight,  although  they  take  their  rise,  like  the  others,  in 
the  animal  organization,  move  forward  in  a  contrary 
direction ;  the  tendency  of  these  organic  pleasures  is 
from  the  body  to  the  soul ;   the  "  arrow-head"  which 
indicates  the  course  of  the  movement  is  pointed  up- 
ward, not  downward.     It  may  be  true  that  the  gratifi- 
cations of  these  two  senses  are  sometimes,  or  are  often, 
abused ;  but,  in  the  order  of  nature,  they  lead  onward 
from  matter  to  Mind,  they  point  from  symbols  to  the 
things  symbolized;  they  move  forward  from  the  less 
worthy  to  the  more  worthy ;  from  that  which  debases 
to  that  which  elevates,  and  purifies,  and  ennobles  hu- 
man nature. 

750.  We  take  up  first  of  these  two  the  pleasurable 
sensations  which  enter  by  the  auditory  nerve,  assumed 
to  be,  as  we  have  just  now  said,  pleasurable  organical- 
ly, and  not  becoming  so  by  aid  of  indirect  associa- 
tions ;  and  it  is  such  sounds  only  as  are  musical  that 
are  organically  pleasing.   Musical  sounds,  whether  they 
proceed  from  a  wire  or  cord  in  tension,  or  from  an  elas- 
tic metallic  plate,  or  a  bell,  or  from  the  human  voice, 
or  the  throat  of  birds,  observe  this  law :  that  the  vibra- 
tions transmitted,  in  whatever  way,  from  their  source  to 
the  ear,  are  definite  as  to  the^  number  that  take  place  in 
a  given  time — say  a  second  ;  and  that  the  exact  num- 
ber of  vibrations  that  constitute  a  note  has  a  determi- 
nate and  invariable  relationship  of  agreement  with  that 


POWERS   OF   MUSIC.  293 

determinate  number  of  vibrations  which  constitute  any 
other  note.  A  chord  is  this  agreement ;  a  discord  is 
a  variation  from  it.  A  simple  mechanical  apparatus 
gives  us  the  actual  number  of  vibrations  that  are  prop- 
er to  each  note,  and  shows  the  mathematical  relation 
of  note  to  note,  and  to  half  notes. 

751.  As  to  the  truth  of  this  relationship,  and  our 
sense  of  it,  and  the  contrary,  in  any  instance  when  mu- 
sical sounds  fall  on  the  ear,  the  same,  nearly,  may  be 
said  of  it  as  we  say  of  those  proprieties  of  behavior 
which  distinguish  well-bred  persons — conformity  there- 
to gives  us  little  pleasure ;  but  any  instance  of  non- 
conformity in  those  around  us  is  positively,  and  in  a 
high  degree,  painful.     The  mere  sense  of  truth  in  mu- 
sical sounds  may  indeed  be  agreeable,  and  especially  it 
is  so  if  it  be  thought  of  in  comparison  with  discords ,' 
but  we  must  look  farther  for  the  cause  of  that  organic 
enjoyment,  intense  as  it  is,  upon  which,  as  a  substra- 
tum, the  pleasurable  quality  of  music  sustains  itself. 

752.  It  is  not  the  nerve  behind  the  tympanum — it 
is  the  Mind  that  is  conscious  of  sound ;  it  is  not  the 
retina,  but  the  Mind  that  is  conscious  of  light.     So 
much  as  this  must  be  taken  for  certain  as  our  datum 
in  any  kind  of  reasoning  concerning  the  correspondence 
of  Mind  and  matter  within  the  animal  organization. 
This  is  not  demonstrable/  true,  because  nothing  in  this 
department  of  science  can  be  demonstrated.     The  best 
we  can  do  is,  with  two  or  more  suppositions  in  view, 
to  choose  the  one  which  consists  the  best  with  the 
mass  of  facts  that  should  find  in  it  an  explication. 

753.  Mind,  conscious  as  it  is  of  sounds,  and  con- 
scious of  the  rate  of  vibration  in  sounds,  and  of  all  cor- 


294  THE   WORLD   OP   MIND. 

respondences  and  disagreements  in  these  rates,  proves 
itself  to  possess  a  perfect  mathematical  sense  both  as 
to  time  and  number.  This  perception  of  time  and 
number  gives  this  peculiar  evidence  of  its  constancy 
and  of  its  universality,  namely,  that  whereas,  in  the 
other  senses — taste,  smell,  touch,  and  even  sight — the 
perceptions  and  judgments  of  individual  persons  differ 
in  extreme  degrees,  there  is  an  almost  absolute  agree- 
ment among  all  who  possess  the  musical  sense  as  to 
the  truth  or  falseness  of  musical  relations  of  sound.  A 
chord  is  instantly  assented  to  as  such  by  any  number 
of  persons  who  are  musical  by  constitution  and  train- 
ing. The  instances  of  dissent  from  such  judgments 
are  exceedingly  rare,  if  they  occur  at  all.  There  are 
many  who  fail  in  the  attempt  to  pitch  their  own  voice 
correctly,  and  there  are  also  very  many  whose  percep- 
tions of  sound  are  obtuse  or  confused;  but  among 
those  whose  ears  are  musically  sensitive  there  is  una- 
nimity of  judgment  as  to  chords  and  discords. 

754.  What,  then,  is  the  warrantable  inference  on 
this  ground  ?     It  seems  to  be  this :  that  MIND,  or  let 
us  say  Mind  in  its  corporeal  lodgment,  is  subjected  to 
rhythmical  conditions,  or  to  the  laws  of  Number  and 
Time.     But  this  conformity  can  be  none,  unless  it  be 
absolute  and  infinitesimal.     Man  and  the  singing-bird 
alike  confess  their  relationship  to  the  same  laws  of 
musical  accordance. 

755.  A  single  musical  no|e  we  assume  to  be  organ- 
ically pleasure-giving ;  but  the  complication  of  these 
organic  sensations,  like  every  kind  of  complication,  im- 
parts intensity  to  them,  and  the  sense  of  pleasure  is 
rapidly  enhanced  at  every  change  in  the  movement. 


POWERS   OP   MUSIC.  295 

756.  Yet  another  step  is  needed  to  give  consistency 
to  our  hypothesis  ;  or  let  us  call  it  a  mere  conjecture, 
and  it  is  this:   that,  as  to  the  emotions — the  gentle 
sensibilities  and  the  passions — each  has  its  specific 
rhythmical  law,  and  each  its  key-note.     It  is,  as  we 
may  imagine,  at  the  point  where  the  mysterious  inter- 
action of  Mind  and  body  takes  place  that  this  rhythm 
has  its  sphere  of  influence :  it  is  a  latent  law,  making 
itself  known  only  in  its  results, 

757.  That,  therefore,  which  we  imagine  to  take  place 
when  Music  kindles  an  emotion,  or  arouses  the  pas- 
sions, is  this — that  a  coincidence  of  the  one  rhythm 
with  the  other  has  occurred.     A  momentary  stimulus 
thus  given  to  any  class  of  feelings  will  be  enough ; 
that  luxurious  sense  of  enjoyment  with  which  it  is  the 
prerogative  of  music  to  fill  the  soul  goes  over  to  en- 
hance the  feeling  which  the  first  few  sounds  have  ex- 
cited, and  thenceforward  the  intensity  of  that  feeling  is 
directly  as  the  pleasure. 

758.  We  turn  from  conjectures,  probable  or  not,  and 
look  to  unquestionable  facts.     It  is  not  difficult  to  con- 
ceive of  a  scheme  of  existence  which  should  in  every 
respect  be  the  same  as  that  of  this  actual  world,  only 
not  inclusive  of  any  musical  consciousness ;  vibrating 
bodies  giving  forth  no  sweet  sounds,  the  human  voice 
capable  of  none  but  non-musical  articulations,  and,  in 
the  human  soul,  no  corresponding  musical  faculty  or 
feeling. 

759.  It  does  not  appear  that  the  world,  such  as  it 
is,  might  not  go  on  well  enough  under  such  a  priva- 
tion.    So  far  as  we  can  see,  Music  is,  as  to  the  animal 
organization,  and  as  to  the  social  system,  and  as  to 


296  THE  WORLD   OF   MIND. 

any  palpable  utility,  a  superfluity.  Music,  we  must 
grant  it,  has  been  thrown  in  upon  the  human  system ; 
it  is  a  tree  grace,  and  a  boon  not  demandable  on  any 
grounds  ot  necessity ;  it  might  have  been  withheld. 
If  it  had  been  withheld,  we  should  have  been  conscious 
of  no  destitution.  "As  to  this  music,  of  which  you 
say  that  it  is  the  choicest  luxury  of  an  upper  sphere, 
and  the  ineffable  delight  of  immortals,  we  want  it  not 
on  earth ;  nay,  such  as  you  describe  it  to  us,  it  would 
ill  suit  us ;  it  would  put  us  out  of  humor  with  our 
hard  lot :  keep  it,  therefore,  to  yourselves." 

760.  So  we  might  have  thought  and  so  spoken. 
And,  in  fact,  have  we  not  often  felt,  while  the  powers 
of  harmony  were  ruling  all  souls  in  its  own  sovereign 
manner,  that  this  power  is  of  foreign  origin — that  it 
has  come  down  among  us — that  it  sojourns  only — that 
after  it  has  displayed  itself  for  an  hour,  it  will  wing 
itself  away  to  a  more  gladsome  world  ? 

761.  We  may  coldly  condemn  any  such  mode  of 
feeling  as  unwarrantable,  or  fanciful,  or  extravagant, 
and  yet  it  returns  upon  us,  whether  we  invite  or  re- 
ject it.     Music  is  a  power  far  more  than  earth  could 
pretend  to ;  it  is  a  large,  free  gift,  and  it  has  a  remote 
meaning,  and  it  asks  the  ear  of  man  as  a  sample  of  a 
state  of  being  with  the  conditions  of  which  it  shall  al- 
ways and  altogether  consist. 


BEAUTY   OF   THE   VISIBLE   WORLD.  297 


XXL 

EMOTIONS  AND  TASTES  RELATED  TO  THE  OBJECTS   OF 
SIGHT. 

762.  IT  is,  as  we  have  just  now  said  (747),  in  the 
sense  of  Hearing  first,  and  in  the  sense  of  Sight  next, 
and  it  is  in  these  two,  and  scarcely  at  all  in  the  other 
three  (or  four),  that  we  find  the  pleasurable  conscious- 
ness which  attends  a  certain  class  of  their  perceptions 
to  have  an  upward  tendency ;  that  is  to  say,  to  exert 
an  influence  which  is  intellectual  and  moral  more  than 
sensual  or  merely  animal. 

763.  We  recapitulate  thus  far.     The  power  of  the 
human  voice  to  utter  articulate  sounds  is  a  function 
that  is  needed  in  the  mechanism  of  the  human  system. 
Destitute  of  this  power,  the  machinery  of  the  intellect- 
ual and  social  world  could  not  go  on — could  not  de- 
velop itself.     But  the  power  of  these  same  organs  to 
give  forth  musical  sounds,  and  the  discriminate  con- 
sciousness of  such  sounds  in  the  ear,  are  quite  supple- 
mentary to  this  machinery,  for  its  functions  and  pur- 
poses might  be  fulfilled,  music  apart,  and  on  the  sup- 
position that  the  consciousness  of  it  had  not  been  be- 
stowed.    In  this  sense,  then,  it  is  a  superfluity  and  a 
grace. 

764.  In  analogy  with  this  are  those  conditions  of 
the  material  world  as  to  its  exterior,  and  those  corre- 
sponding Tastes  and  Emotions  of  the  human  mind  with 

N2 


298  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

which  we  have  now  to  do.  These  conditions  are  sup- 
plementary in  relation  to  the  structure  and  functions 
of  organized  bodies,  and  also  of  the  unorganized  masses 
of  the  world ;  and,  in  like  manner,  the  tastes  and  feel- 
ings to  which  these  conditions  are  related  are  supple- 
mentary to  the  Mind.  Human  nature  might  have 
wanted  them  without  "being  conscious  of  any  want. 

765.  The  same  analogy  holds  good,  also,  in  the 
next  step.     Those  pleasurable  tastes  and  emotions 
which  take  their  rise  from  the  exterior  and  visible 
conditions  of  the  material  world  have  an  upward  tend- 
ency toward  that  which  is  intellectual,  not  sensual, 
and  toward  that  which  is  moral,  not  degrading. 

766.  Thus  it  is  that,  on  one  hand,  the  sense  of 
Melody  and  Harmony,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
sense  of  Beauty,  take  their  position  in  the  scheme  of 
human  existence  as  intermediate  between  sense  and 
sentiment — between  the  organization  and  the  soul — 
between  that  which  is  the  lowest  among  the  functions 
of  life  and  that  which  is  the  loftiest.     These  two  spe- 
cies of  consciousness  may  well  be  regarded  as  redeem- 
ing energies  in  the  human  system. 

767.  We  may  look  abroad  upon  the  material  world, 
animate  and  inanimate,  with  two  entirely  dissimilar 
intentions  ;  for  we  may  look  at  every  thing  as  Struc- 
ture and  Function,  or  we  may  look  at  the  same  ob- 
jects as  a  blended  manifestation  of  Form  and  of  Color. 
Under  the  first  of  these  aspects  it  is  the  interior  chief- 
ly that  we  are  concerned  with ;  in  the  second  it  is  the 
exterior  exclusively.     As  to  the  first,  it  is  EEASON 
that  is  called  into  exercise;  as  to  the  second,  it  is  a 
SENSE  for  which  we  want  a  comprehensive  and  alto- 


BEAUTY   OF   THE   VISIBLE    WORLD.  299 

gether  fit  term :  we  call  it  the  sense  of  Beauty,  or  the 
sense  of  the  beautiful  and  the  sublime. 

768.  Among  all  the  sounds  that  fall  upon  the  ear, 
it  is,  as  we  have  said,  one  class  only  that  is  organical- 
ly pleasurable,  namely,  musical  sounds ;   but  among 
the  infinitely  various  impressions  that  fall  upon  the 
visual  organ  there  are  impressions  of  several  distinct 
classes  that  are  in  themselves  pleasurable.     This  at 
least  must  be  affirmed,  that  these  impressions  differ  so 
widely  in  kind  that  it  is  better  to  consider  them  apart 
than  as  modes  only  of  one  species. 

769.  Yet  it  is  true  that,  in  the  intensely  pleasurable 
consciousness  of  Beauty  as  it  is  spread  upon  the  sur- 
face of  the  material  world,  there  is  ordinarily  little 
thought  of  its  several  constituents.     In  this  luxury  of 
the  sense  and  of  the  soul  there  is  an  emotion,  the 
tendency  of  which  is  to  blend  and  to  commingle  rath- 
er than  to  distinguish  and  to  separate  the  elements  of 
enjoyment.      It  is  when  the  Beauty  of  the  visible 
world  comes  to  be  regarded  as  an  object  of  Art,  and 
when  it  is  to  be  reproduced  or  imitated,  that  we  are 
led — necessarily  so — to  make  distinctions,  and  to  give 
separate  and  careful  attention  to  each  ingredient  in  the 
composite  enjoyment.     Some  such  analytic  process  is 
needed  also  when,  as  now,  we  intend  to  consider  the 
subject  before  us  in  relation  to  its  elements  in  a  sci- 
entific sense.     But  for  a  moment  we  may  look  at  it 
apart  from'  analysis,  and  without  any  discriminative 
carefulness. 

770.  The  Beauty  of  the  visible  world  and  its  sub- 
limity— for  we  must  not  now  divide  elements  that  are 
more  often  commingled  than  disjoined — this  Beauty  is 


300  THE   WORLD    OF   MIND. 

such  that,  if  a  man  be  exempt  from  the  pressure  of 
common  wants,  and  if  he  be  free  to  surrender  himself 
to  the  life  of  intelligence,  and  also  if  he  be  of  that  tem- 
perament which  relates  him  to  such  objects,  then,  and 
with  these  conditions  supposed,  the  decorated  aspect 
of  the  world  quite  fills  the  faculties  which  it  stimu- 
lates :  it  is  enough  of  enjoyment ;  more  than  this  is 
not  thought  of  or  cared  for.  No  other  occupation 
than  that  of  contemplating  it  is  desired ;  no  sense  ol 
satiety  or  weariness  is  engendered  in  this  continuous 
contemplation. 

771.  It  need  scarcely  be  said  that,  in  thus  speaking, 
we  put  out  of  view,  for  the  moment,  that  from  which 
no  human  being  may,  in  fact,  insulate  himself,  name- 
ly, the  requirements  of  his  moral  and  spiritual  nature. 
No  man  is  free  to  hold  himself  clear  of  social  and  re- 
ligious obligations.     These  duly  allowed  for  and  sup- 
posed, then  it  may  be  affirmed  that  the  visible  world 
and  the  human  soul,  with  its  circle  of  Emotions  and 
of  Tastes,  are   complements   the   one   of  the   other. 
Throughout  a  large  extent  of  its  circle  of  faculties, 
the  human  soul  has  no  vitality  :  it  is  not,  or  it  is  la- 
tent, until  it  receives  its  spring  from  its  apprehension 
of  the  beauty  which  surrounds  it  in  the  visible  world. 

772.  Thus  it  is,  then,  that,  if  the  Eeason  be  para- 
mount in  the  individual  temperament  (419,  et  seq.), 
then  the  man  finds  his  sphere  in  making  himself  con- 
versant with  the  structure  and  functions  of  the  mate- 
rial system ;   the  world,  when  thus  regarded,  is  the 
complement  of  the  Human  Reason.     But  if  it  be  the 
Emotional  nature  and  the  Tastes  that  are  paramount, 
then  it  is  the  Exterior  of  this  same  world  that  en- 


BEAUTY   OF   THE   VISIBLE   WORLD.  301 

gages  the  faculties  and  that  supplies  them  with  their 
aliment. 

773.  We  have  to  seek  for  the  rudiments  of  that 
composite  pleasure  which  we  derive  from  the  specta- 
cle of  the  world,  regarded  in  its  visible  properties. 

774.  I  suppose  myself  to  be  in  an  apartment  or 
hall  illuminated  by  a  diffused  light.     Before  me  there 
is  a  slab  of  white  marble.     Unless  the  sight  be  weak 
and  diseased,  it  is  always  true  that  "it  is  a  pleasant 
thing  for  the  eye  to  behold  the  light ;"  yet  this  is  a 
pleasure  of  an  undefined  sort.     But  now  upon  the 
marble  slab  let  there  be  thrown,  by  a  prism,  or  by  a 
sunbeam  passing  through  colored  glass,  one  of  the 
three  constituents  of  the  solar  light — the  Yellow,  or 
the  Red,  or  the  Blue.     Let  this  two-inch  square  of 
color  have  an  unsullied  prismatic  purity,  and  all  the 
brilliance  that  can  be  given  it,  so  as  not  to  oppress  the 
sight.     This  colored  surface  not  merely  attracts  the 
eye,  as  might  happen  from  the  appearance  of  a  dingy 
spot  or  stain  upon  the  marble,  nor  as  might  happen 
from  the  falling  of  a  beam  of  direct  light  on  the  same 
area.     I  gaze  at  this  pure  resplendent  yellow,  or  red, 
or  blue  with  a  vivid  pleasure.     Unless  there  be  an 
excess  of  radiation  from  the  colored  surface,  the  eye 
feeds  upon  the  brilliant  color — feasts  upon  it.     We 
say  the  eye  /  but  rather  let  us  say  the  MIND,  alive  to- 
ward color,  not  merely  notes  it  as  distinguishable  from 
whiteness^  but  imbibes  it  with  a  satisfaction,  as  if  it 
were  the  aliment  of  an  appetite.     This  yellow,  or  red, 
or  blue — pure,  spotless,  and  resplendent — if  it  were 
then  seen  for  the  first  time,  would  kindle  a  faculty ;  it 
would  impart  a  new  element  of  enjoyment  to  conscious- 
ness. 


302  THE   WOELD   OF  MIND. 

775.  But  now  upon  this  same  slab  there  is  next 
thrown  the  three  primary  colors,  each  mingling  with 
its  neighbor,  as  seen  in  the  prismatic  spectrum.     A 
new  gratification,  in  this  case,  presents  itself;  for  it  is 
not  merely  three  organic  satisfactions  for  one,  but  these 
patches  of  color — the  primaries,  and  their  mixtures — 
the  orange,  the  violet,  the  purple,  the  green — have  a 
fixed  relation  each  to  the  others,  which  the  organ  rec- 
ognizes as  true  and  as  grateful,  because  it  is  a  fixed 
relation.     Take  each  of  the  secondary  colors  apart, 
and  it  exerts  its  own  power  over  the  sensuous  faculty ; 
but  taking  these  secondary  colors  in  groups  with  cer- 
tain contrasts  obtained  by  aid  of  the  primary  colors, 
and  then  new  gratifications  of  an  organic  kind  are  the 
result. 

776.  Close  by  the  side  of  the  prismatic  spectrum, 
within  which  the  colors  are  so  commingled  as  to  pre- 
serve the  purity  of  each,  and  a  certain  relationship 
among  them,  place  a  sheet  of  paper  upon  which  stains, 
or  any  non-related  mixtures  of  the  same  elements  are 
spread  out.     Then  appeal  to  any  healthy  eye  to  make 
its  choice  between  the  one  surface   and  the   other. 
Which  of  the  two  is  it  that  the  sight  rests  upon  writh 
satisfaction?     Or  let  the   adjudicator  be   an  infant 
whose    perceptions    are    unsophisticated.       On    this 
ground  an  analogy  presents  itself  between  sounds  and 
colors  which   should  be  adverted  to  in  passing,  al- 
though we  should  not  too  far  insist  upon  it :  it  is  a 
suggestive  analogy,  not  a  scientific  generalization. 

777.  Among  the  infinite  diversities  of  sounds,  it  is 
vibratory  or  musical  sounds  only  that  are  organically 
pleasurable,  and  these,  if  they  be  synchronous  or  close- 


BEAUTY   OF   THE   VISIBLE   WORLD.  303 

ly  consecutive,  must  be  inter-related  in  a  certain  per- 
fectly exact  manner,  sound  to  sound,  otherwise  they 
give  pain,  not  pleasure.  Now  as  to  colors,  it  is  not 
the  promiscuous  or  the  accidental  commingling  of 
them,  such  as  is  presented  on  the  dull  surfaces  of 
modern  buildings,  roadways,  or  overcast  skies,  that 
awakens  and  engages  the  visual  sense ;  the  elements 
of  light  must  be  presented  in  their  purity,  and  they 
must  be  inter-related  in  a  specific  manner.  Pure  col- 
ors, commingled  in  certain  proportions,  and  placed  in  a 
certain  juxtaposition,  are  gazed  upon  with  a  vivid  or- 
ganic gratification.  Musical  (vibratory)  sounds  in  their 
purity,  and  if  related  to  each  other  in  fixed  proportions, 
are  listened  to  with  intense  organic  pleasure.  In  these 
facts  there  is,  to  say  the  least,  the  indication  of  an  in- 
ner truth,  resolvable  probably  into  the  mathematical 
conditions  of  Mind.  But  the  pursuit  of  so  recondite  a 
subject  would  not  consist  with  our  present  purpose. 

778.  The  pure  elementary  colors,  and  also  the  sec- 
ondary commixtures  of  them,  are  presented  in  many 
of  the  surfaces  of  the  material  system,  organized  and 
unorganized,  and  the  eye  (the  eye  that  is  gifted  for 
color)  recognizes  them  with  pleasure ;  as,  for  example, 
in  the  cloudless  vault  of  heaven,  in  the  splendors  of 
sunrise  and  sunset,  in  the  precious  stones — the  ame- 
thyst, the  emerald,  the  ruby,  the  sapphire,  the  topaz ; 
in  the  vestiture  of  some  animals,  especially  of  birds 
and  insects,  and  in  shells ;  and  not  least,  in  the  deli- 
cious gayeties  of  the  flower-garden. 

779.  But  besides  these  primary  and  these  secondary 
colors,  a  large  proportion  of  the  surfaces  that  meet  the 
eye  in  nature,  and  upon  which  the  artistic  eye  rests 


304  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

with  a  keen  delight,  are  those  comminglings  of  the 
secondary  colors,  forming  the  tertiary,  which  are  tech- 
nically called  tints.  These  tints,  when  they  nearly 
approach  each  other,  and  when  they  are  set  off  or  re- 
lieved by  brilliant  spots  of  the  primary  colors,  fully 
satisfy,  but  never  satiate  an  eye  that  is  alive  to  them. 
The  instances  are  such  as  these :  the  remote  distances 
of  a  mountainous  country ;  hill  sides,  changefully  illu- 
minated and  cloud-shaded ;  the  surfaces  of  rocks,  time- 
worn,  and  partially  coated  with  lichens — gray,  green- 
ish, slaty ;  the  exterior  walls  of  ancient  buildings  ;  the 
massive  southern  frontage  of  woods  or  plantations,  in 
which  all  varieties  of  foliage  court  the  sun ;  and  these 
at  the  time— so  brief — when  the  earliest  autumnal  de- 
cay has  shown  itself.  As  to  the  decorated  animal 
species — birds,  butterflies,  moths,  Crustacea — it  is  sel- 
dom in  these  instances  the  tints  or  tertiary  colors,  but 
more  often  the  primary  and  the  secondary,  that  Nature 
has  brought  upon  her  palette. 

780.  Those  groupings  of  deep  and  rich  colors  of 
which  ART  makes  her  boast,  and  which  spread  a  splen- 
dor upon  historic  subjects,  these  are  seldom — scarcely 
ever  presented  on  the  tablet  of  Nature.  They  are  the 
devices  and  the  resources  of  Art ;  and  yet,  although 
they  are  devices,  it  is  not  the  less  true  that  they  draw 
their  reason  from  principles,  and  they  please  us  in  Art 
only  because,  by  its  structure,  the  mind,  as  to  its  vis- 
ual faculty,  is  alive  to  these  harmonies  and  these  con- 
trasts, and  recognizes  them  as  true.  Music  is  Art,  not 
Nature ;  but  it  is  Art  conformed  with  the  most  severe 
exactitude  to  the  laws  of  mind  in  regard  to  its  con- 
sciousness toward  sound. 


BEAUTY   OF   THE    VISIBLE    WOELD.  305 

781.  AET  and  its  principles  are  not  our  subject.     If 
now  we  return  to  the  aspects  of  Nature  so  far  as  relates 
to  the  harmonies  of  color,  then  we  have  to  give  its  due 
place  to  that  main  condition  of  beauty  in  landscape, 
atmospheric  intervention,  or  its  semi-opacity  and  its 
diffusive  power — in  a  word,  all  that  is  comprehended 
in  the  technical  phrase  aerial  perspective.    If  we  would 
know  how  much  of  our  English  feeling  of  the  charms 
of  landscape  we  owe  to  this  intervention,  we  should 
take  our  summer's  tour  in  countries  such  as  Palestine, 
where  it  is  at  its  minimum^  and  where  hills  of  com- 
monplace outline,  far  and  near,  look  like  the  painted 
plaster  of  Paris  model  of  a  country,  all  equally  distinct, 
and  all  hard  in  outline. 

782.  It  is  the  semi-transparency  of  the  atmosphere, 
carrying  its  variable  burden  of  uncombined  moisture, 
its  mists  and  its  meteorologic  accidents,  that  suggests 
to  Art  something  beyond  the  mere  imitation  of  colors 
and  of  forms,  and  that  imparts  to  landscape  its  com- 
munity of  feeling  with  poetry.     By  the  breaking  down 
of  secondary  colors  into  tints,  by  the  blending,  almost 
into  one,  of  colors  that  are  nearly  related,  and  not  least, 
by  giving  to  the  harmonies  of  color  an  advantage  over 
the  too  great  obtrusiveness  of  form — it  is  in  these 
modes  that  the  encumbered  atmosphere  of  these  lati- 
tudes gives  to  landscape  much  of  its  ideality  and  of 
its  poetic  value  as  allied  to  pictorial  art,  and  to  po- 
etry also. 

783.  It  may  be  thought  that,  while  we  are  naming 
the  elements  of  that  enjoyment  which  the  eye  receives 
from  the  aspects  of  the  material  world,  we  should  give 
a  prominent  place  to  light  and  shadow,  or  effect,  as  it 


306  THE    WORLD   OF   MIND. 

is  called.  Light  and  shadow  are  ministrative  to  the 
visual  development  of  form.  Rudimentally  consider- 
ed, they  are  not  pleasure-giving.  Among  the  devices 
of  Art  employed  for  the  production  of  factitious  visual 
impressions  derived  from  the  flat  colored  surfaces,  light 
and  shadow,  and  the  more  and  the  less  of  direct  illu- 
mination, are  principal  means  of  accomplishing  its  pur- 
poses ;  but  if  we  carry  ourselves,  in  imagination,  to  a 
world  of  light,  a  world  of  colors,  every  substance  being 
phosphorescent,  or  as  if  luminous  from  within,  then, 
and  in  such  a  region  of  commingled  harmonies  and 
splendors,  we  should  ask  for  no  heightening  of  the 
charms  of  the  landscape  by  aid  of  shadow.  Shadow 
is  a  means  of  Art,  and  in  the  world  of  nature  it  takes 
its  place  among  those  arrangements  of  the  material 
system  that  are  adapted  to  meet  the  functions,  and 
purposes,  and  movements  of  animal  life. 

784.  Light  and  shade,  or  rather  shadow,  in  its  vari- 
ous degrees  and  with  its  reflected  lights,  along  with 
color,  give  us  our  notion  of  FORM,  and  Form  comes  to 
be  thought  of  either  as  bounded  in  relation  to  other 
and  more  remote  surfaces  by  its  exterior  contour — its 
outline,  or  otherwise  as  a  rotund  mass.  It  is  in  the 
first-named  of  these  two  modes  that  we  learn  to  regard 
large  and  stationary  objects,  such  as  mountain  heights 
and  public  edifices,  which  are  seen  from  certain  fixed 
points  of  view,  whence  their  outline  has  an  invariable 
aspect.  It  is  in  the  second  mode  that  we  come  to 
think  of  smaller  objects,  and  those  in  relation  to  which 
we  and  they  are  incessantly  varying  position,  so  that 
it  is  not  one  contour,  or  two,  or  three  contours  that 
become  familiar  to  the  eye,  but  every  possible  exterior 


BEAUTY    OF   THE   VISIBLE   WORLD.  307 

line.  It  is  thus,  especially,  that  we  receive  our  notion 
of  the  human  form,  which  is  the  pre-eminent  compen- 
dium of  all  principles  of  beauty,  and  which  unites  all 
charms,  is  formed,  and  that  it  acquires  consistency. 
It  is  because  Sculpture  meets  this  condition  that  its 
pleasure-giving  power  surpasses  so  much  that  of 
Painting. 

785.  The  organic  reason  of  the  pleasure-giving 
quality  of  certain  lines  and  forms,  while  other  lines 
and  forms  are  either  beheld  with  indifference  or  are 
disagreeable,  has  been  the  subject  of  much  controversy 
to  little  purpose ;  but  it  is  a  question  upon  which  we 
need  not  here  enter :  it  belongs  to  the  theory  of  Art. 
What  we  have  to  do  with  is  the  matter  of  fact,  and 
concerning  this  fact  there  can  be  no  room  for  doubt,  or 
none  among  those  upon  whom  Nature  has  bestowed 
the  sense  of  form.  This  is  an  instance  ranging  along 
with  several  to  which  we  have  already  had  occasion  to 
advert ;  it  is  a  case  of  a  special  faculty  /  it  is  an  en- 
dowment of  individual  minds,  and  is  denied  to  other 
minds.  Thus  it  is  as  to  the  musical  consciousness 
both  as  to  the  ear  and  as  to  the  soul.  And  so  the 
sense  of  color,  and  so  the  sense  of  form,  which  are  the 
endowments  of  individuals.  Nothing  could  be  more 
futile  than  the  endeavor  to  talk  any  such  faculty  into 
those  who  have  not  been  so  fortunate  as  to  bring  it 
with  them  into  the  world.  But  then  we  are  not  to 
deny  or  to  call  in  question  the  reality  of  a  gift  because 
we  ourselves,  or  others,  may  want  it.  There  are  more 
than  a  few  persons  who  have  no  power  whatever  to 
apprehend  an  abstraction  of  any  kind ;  nevertheless, 
we  hold  mathematical  science  to  be  real  and  sure. 


308  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

786.  In  proof  of  the  fact  of  the  pleasure-giving 
quality  of  certain  lines  and  forms,  and  of  the  want  of 
that  quality  in  other  lines  and  forms,  innumerable 
familiar  instances  might  be  adduced.     The  track  of  a 
slow-moving  animal,  as  of  a  snail,  upon  a  pane  of  glass 
or  across  a  floor,  has  no  character,  no  uniform  inten- 
tion, and  is  not  pleasing;  the  track  of  the  electric 
spark  across  the  heavens,  although  it  be  associated 
with  ideas  of  harm  and  danger,  is  seen  and  admired 
in  itself;  the  angles  of  which  it  is  composed,  and  its 
general  direction,  have  an  aspect  ot  oneness  along  with 
variety,  indicative  of  force,  liberty,  and  singleness  of 
principle.     If  the  electric  spark,  especially  when  it  is 
double  or  treble,  as  it  spans  the  heavens  from  east  to 
west,  were  as  enduring  as  is  the  rainbow,  it  would  be 
gazed  at  as  the  most  magnificent  of  natural  spectacles, 
and  as  greatly  surpassing  in  beauty  the  rainbow,  al- 
though graced  with  its  prismatic  gayety.     The  outline 
of  common  rounded  hills  against  the  sky  is  not  pleas- 
ing ;  but  mountain  ridges,  when  they  are  the  product 
of  great  dynamic  changes,  are  often  highly  pleasing. 
Masses  of  foliage  may  in  themselves  be  quite  unmean- 
ing, but  if  the  shadows  of  these  same  masses  are  thrown 
by  an  oblique  sun  upon  a  wall,  the  uniform  perspective 
gives  them  character  and  meaning,  and  the  eye  is  at- 
tracted toward  them. 

787.  The  contour  of  fruit-trees — the  apple,  for  in- 
stance— does  not  recommend  itself  to  the  eye.     That 
of  most  forest  trees  does   so.     In  leaf  or   in  bare 
branches,  the  difference  holds — to  wit,  in  comparing 
the  wintry  orchard  with  the  wintry  woodland.     The 
beech,  the  Spanish  chestnut,  the  ash,  the  elm,  the  oak, 


BEAUTY   OF   THE    VISIBLE   WOULD.  309 

whether  superbly  clad  as  in  June,  or  naked  as  in 
January,  are  objects  upon  which  the  gifted  eye  rests 
with  untiring  enjoyment.  Those  artistic  practices 
which  represent  form  only^  and  its  contours  or  outline 
chiefly,  as  in  pencil  and  crayon  sketches,  are  evidence 
of  the  highly  grateful  quality  of  this  element  when 
taken  apart  from  color.  Landscape  sketching,  land- 
scape tinted  drawing,  and  landscape  painting,  in  which 
last  color  and  atmospheric  effect  are  combined,  may  be 
regarded  as  demonstration  in  detail  of  the  several  ele- 
ments of  that  never-spent  luxury  which  the  eye  draws 
from  the  aspects  of  the  material  world.  Nature,  using 
the  term  now  in  its  technical,  artistic  sense,  is  as  truly 
now,  as  at  first,  man's  paradise;  it  is  the  scene  in  which, 
if  it  be  his  lot  to  linger,  advantaged  by  instructed  tastes, 
he  never  grows  weary,  he  is  never  satiated. 

788.  The  copious  and  higher  theme  of  beauty  in  the 
human  form  is  at  once  too  copious,  and  it  is  of  too 
theoretic  a  kind  to  be  entered  upon  in  these  pages. 
As  to  the  entire  subject,  therefore,  we  do  not  forget  it, 
but  we  assign  it  to  a  fitter  place.     Having  said  this 
one  word,  we  return  to  the  beauty,  and  the  splendor, 
and  the  sublimity  of  the  visible  world — to  Nature,  as 
it  is  called. 

789.  The  worn  subject-matter  of  this  theme,  de- 
scriptively treated,  must  not  occupy  any  portion  of  our 
space.     What  concerns  us  is  this,  that,  as  in  regard 
to  musical  sounds,  so  in  regard  to  color  and  form,  the 
mind,  taking  its  start  or  gaining  its  suggestion  from 
the  level  of  its  organic  perceptions,  which  in  these  in- 
stances are  pleasurable,  commingles  these  perceptions 
with  its  emotions  and  with  its  feelings  of  every  species 


310  THE   WORLD    OF   MIND. 

and  order.  We  say  commingles  the  one  kind  of  con- 
sciousness with  the  other  kinds  ;  but  in  fact,  and  as  if 
it  were  with  a  galvanic  instantaneousness  and  an  in- 
tensity of  action,  these  perceptions  of  visible  beauty 
collapse  upon  whatever  sentiment,  feeling,  affection, 
or  passion  is  nearest  at  hand,  and  thus  the  external 
world  as  beautiful,  and  the  percipient  faculty — the  ani- 
mal organization,  and  the  soul,  with  its  circle  of  sensi- 
bilities, even  the  entireness  of  its  emotional  nature, 
comes  to  be  so  blended  as  that  thenceforward  the  ani- 
mal ceases  to  be  animal,  and  the  soul  admits,  without 
exception,  an  aid  from  its  lower  nature  in  following 
the  impulses  of  its  higher  nature. 

790.  The  beauty  of  Nature,  as  Landscape,  regarded 
as  the  subject  or  material  of  the  imitative  arts,  does, 
indeed,  connect  itself  with  sentiments  of  a  delicious 
kind,  but  they  are  not  such  as  are  of  the  most  elevated 
order.     Painting,  on  this  ground,  is  able  to  administer 
much  exquisite  enjoyment,  but  still  it  walks  on  earth ; 
it  may  not  boast  that  it  has  wings.     The  beauty  of 
nature,  regarded  in  itself  and  apart  from  Art,  it  is  this 
that  leads  the  way  into  the  region  of  poetry,  and  in 
this  region  the  human  mind  does  not  ask  wings :  it 
has  them,  and  it  soars. 

791.  So  instinctive  is  the  affinity  of  the  emotions 
and  affections  with  the  beauty  of  the  visible  world, 
that  a  combination  between  them  takes  place  even 
when  this  beauty  present^  itself  under  conditions  of 
extreme  disadvantage.     Take  an  instance — railways, 
careering  as  they  do  over  the  chimney-pots  of  great 
towns,  give  us  an  insight  into  the  attic  life  of  such 
places,  and  we  see  what  are  its  discomforts,  and  what 


BEAUTY   OF   THE   VISIBLE   WORLD.  311 

may  be  its  embellishments  too.  On  the  window-sill 
of  a  topmost  paper-patched  casement  there  are  flower- 
pots— two  or  three,  with  bright  geraniums ;  there  is 
also  a  choice  balsam,  just  now  in  magnificent  bloom ! 
But  look  at  the  Spitalfields  proprietor  of  these  floral 
treasures !  To  tend  them  is  his  first  care  in  the  foggy 
morning.  Squalid,  indeed,  in  aspect  is  this  amateur ; 
and  as  to  his  breakfast,  which  must  be  shared  with  a 
craving  family,  it  falls  far  short  of  sufficiency  for  seven. 
Nevertheless,  half  starved  as  he  is — -worn  with  eight- 
een or  twenty  hours'  labor,  and  his  haggard,  heart-sick 
Eve  by  his  side,  and  his  ill-conditioned  progeny  about 
him,  with  annoyances  accumulated,  and  almost  all 
things  convenient  absent,  yet  this  man  is  man,  and 
therefore  BEAUTIFUL  NATUEE  and  he  shall  not  be  sun- 
dered. Man  will  cling  to  a  memento  of  his  paradise ; 
nor  shall  any  ordinary  sufferings  wean  him  from  the 
thought  of  this,  his  primeval  felicity ;  and  so  it  is  that 
if  this  grudging  world,  with  its  boundless  superfluities, 
can  spare  him  nothing  more,  he  will  yet  make  himself 
as  happy  as  a  lord  with  a  single  flower-pot  and  a  bal- 
sam in  bloom. 

792.  Yet  this  Spitalfields  florist  is,  perhaps,  only  a 
4 'flower  fancier,"  and  it  may  be  that  there  is  no  poe- 
try in  him.  But  there  may  be  poetry  in  him,  for  there 
is  in  many  of  his  class  ;  and  then  this  single  plant,  its 
semi-transparent  stem,  its  leaf,  so  delicate  in  structure, 
and  so  pure  in  color  and  surface,  and  its  exquisite 
blossom !  but  who  shall  do  justice  to  the  painting  of 
its  petals,  scarlet  and  white,  or  to  the  elegance  of  those 
petals  in  form  ?  This  plant,  if  the  soul  of  poetry  be 
in  its  owner — this  flower,  as  often  as  he  looks  at  it, 


312  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

whispers  to  him  of  all  those  things,  sweet,  bright,  rich, 
magnificent,  which  make  gay  and  glad  the  wide  sunny 
world,  outlying  far  beyond  and  around  the  pandemo- 
nium of  want  and  woe  at  the  heart  of  which  his  stern 
destiny  chains  him. 

793.  The  same  railway  which  has  brought  us  over 
Spitalfields  shall  carry  us,  not  to  Chatsworth,  nor  to 
any  place  where  wealth  and  taste  lord  it  over  nature, 
but  it  shall  be  to  some  spot,  the  like  to  which  there 
are  thousands  scattered  over  this  land  of  hedgerows 
and  cottage  homes — places  where  nature  owes  the  least 
to  art,  and  where  she  herself,  and  not  her  rival  Art,  is 
thought  of  by  those  who  have  learned  how  to  love  her. 
Deep  in  the  recesses  of  an  untouched  rural  district, 
where  the  summer's  noon  is  as  silent  as  a  midway  ex- 
panse of  the  Atlantic,  where  there  are  corn-fields,  and 
meadows,  and  copses,  and  uplands — not  mountains  and 
rivulets — not  rivers — and  where  there  is  a  cottage  and 
a  garden,  not  a  mansion  and  grounds — there,  or  in  any 
such  place,  may  the  days  and  years  of  a  long  life  be 
passed  in  converse  with  beautiful  nature,  and  this  rel- 
ish shall  in  no  wise  be  more  languid  at  seventy  than 
it  was  at  seventeen. 

794.  The  simple  beauty  of  nature  draws  toward 
itself  a  higher  power — :that  of  the  infinite — in  several 
different  modes  ;  and  when  it  does  so,  it  affects  us  in 
another  manner,  and  we  call  it  the  sublime.    It  is  true 
that,  apart  from  any  element  of  beauty,  objects  may 
affect  us  so  as  that  we  think  them  sublime.     Mere 
vastness  or  bulk  does  so,  and  especially  if  it  rear  itself 
aloft,  and  give  the  notion  of  danger,  and  inspire  terror. 
If  one  were  on  the  ridge  of  an  ordinary  slate-covered 


BEAUTY   OF  THE   VISIBLE   WORLD.  313 

roof,  he  might  imagine  the  dull  surface  to  be  extended, 
right  and  left,  for  a  mile  without  a  break ;  and,  more- 
over, suppose  it  to  stretch  down  from  the  ridge  to 
which  he  clings  a  mile  in  depth !  there  is  then  before 
him  an  idea  fraught  with  terror,  and  he  may  say  it  is 
sublime.  But  that  which,  in  a  genuine  sense,  is  sub- 
lime, we  take  to  be  constituted  of  vastness — a  some- 
thing unknown  or  infinite,  and,  withal,  an  aspect  of 
beauty.  There  is  no  grandeur  unless  there  be  beauty 
as  well  as  largeness. 

795.  It  has  often  been  questioned  whether  the  as- 
pect of  the  starry  heavens  on  a  clear  night  is  sublime, 
for  it  is  said  that  it  is  magnificent  rather  than  sublime. 
The  heavens  at  night,  as  we  ordinarily  look  at  the 
vault  above  us,  shows  itself  more  as  the  ceiling  of 
earth  richly  ornamented  than  as  an  unveiling  of  the 
universe  of  worlds.    Feeling,  as  we  do,  that  we  ought 
to  think  it  sublime,  we  have  recourse  to  the  aid  of 
astronomy ;  we  look  into  books  of  science,  and  fill  our 
thoughts  with  the  details  of  the  celestial  arithmetic. 
But  this  factitious  process  poorly  answers  its  purpose ; 
the  human  mind  is  not  to  be  schooled  into  impressions ; 
it  will  not  rebuke  itself  into  admiration,  nor  be  drilled 
in  wonder. 

796.  But  if  we  can  imagine  ourselves  to  have  dis- 
tanced this  earth  far  enough  to  bring  it  into  visual 
comparison  with  its  neighbor  planets ;    if  we  could 
look  round  upon  these  spheres,  each  speeding  away 
on  its  own  year  path,  and  could  so  think  of  this  clus- 
ter as  should  aid  us  in  looking  outward  toward  the 
next  proximate  cluster ;  and  if  it  were  granted  to  hu- 
man eyes  to  gaze  upon  the  fields  of  the  universe  with 

O 


314  THE   WOULD    OF   MIND. 

a  consciousness  of  the  millions  of  spheres,  shining  and 
shone  upon,  that  crowd  these  spaces,  then  there  would 
be  no  room  for  the  question,  Is  the  spectacle  of  the 
heavens  sublime? 

797.  After  having  thus  glanced  at  the  beauty  of  the 
visible  world,  and  noted  also  the  organic  origin  of  those 
emotions  which  connect  themselves  with  music,  we 
reach  the  border  of  another  subject,  demanding  to  be 
considered  by  itself,  namely,  the  relation  of  the  hu- 
man mind  to  the  unknown  and  the  infinite. 


XXII. 

THE  RELATION   OF  THE   HUMAN   MIND   TO    THE   UN- 
KNOWN  AND  THE   INFINITE. 

798.  THE  relation  of  the  human  mind  to  the  un- 
known and  the  infinite!     What  is  it  that  we  mean? 
It  may  be  a  real  but  an  unconscious  relationship,  or  it 
may  be  a  real  relationship  of  which  all  men  have  a 
more  or  less  distinct  consciousness,  or  it  may  be  a  real 
relationship  of  which  certain  classes  of  minds  only  are 
conscious,  while  others  are  not  so  in  any  sensible  de- 
gree.    We  take  it  in  this  last  sense. 

799.  There  are  many  to  whom  the  very  terms  where- 
in we  express  the  assumed  fact  of  any  such  corre- 
spondence would  be  either  an  enigma  or  a  subject  of 
mockery.     Just  so  it  is  as  to  the  several  branches  of 
abstract  philosophy,  mathematical  and  physical ;   for 
to  very  many  around  us  this  is  a  region  unapproach- 
able, and  an  utter  blank ;  just  so  it  is  as  to  the  bright 
fields  of  elevated  sentiment — the  world  of  taste,  of 


THE   UNKNOWN   AND   THE   INFINITE.  315 

feeling,  and  of  poetry — to  multitudes  around  us  ;  just 
so  it  is  as  to  the  regions  of  Art,  to  multitudes  ;  just  so 
it  is  as  to  the  loftier  and  more  generous  moral  impulses, 
to  many ;  just  so  it  is,  to  many,  as  to  what  we  now 
affirm,  namely,  the  relation  of  the  human  mind  to  the 
unknown  and  the  infinite :  it  is  as  if  it  were  not. 

800.  Those  to  whom  it  would  be  so  are  found  to 
occupy  extreme  positions  on  the  intellectual  scale,  as 
thus :  there  is  the  very  lowest  and  the  most  degraded 
order  of  minds,  whether  in  the  depths  of  civilized  com- 
munities or  in  the  wilds  of  savage  life,  whose  eye,  from 
youth  to  age,  is  never  diverted  from  its  earthward  fix- 
edness ;  then  there  are  the  frivolous,  and  the  sensual, 
and  the  sordid,  of  whom  there  are  many  in  every  lux- 
urious community ;  and  then  there  are  those  who  have 
reasoned  themselves  out  of  every  belief,  and  have  al- 
lowed sophistry  and  paradox  to  consume  within  them 
the  very  viscera  of  the  moral  life. 

801.  Notwithstanding  any  such  exceptive  instances, 
or  all  of  them  put  together,  the  human  Mind  does  in 
truth  stand  in  a  real  relationship  to  the  unknown  and 
the  infinite,  and  of  this  relationship  it  has  a  vivid  con- 
sciousness, unless,  indeed,  its  genuine  perceptions  have 
been,  as  above  said,  overborne. 

802.  It  is  on  occasion  of  some  contrast  or  some  an- 
tagonism that  the  idea  of  this  relationship  most  often 
presents  itself.     In  search  of  an  instance,  we  go  back 
to  the  subject  of  the  last  section.     The  beautiful  in 
Nature  seldom  presents  itself  otherwise  than  under 
some  condition  of  imperfection  and  limitation.     The 
flower-garden  has  its  cankers,  and  its  blights,  and  its 
fading  and  decaying  splendors.     The  bright  landscape 


316  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

of  June  suggests  a  contrast  with  the  rigors  and  dis- 
comforts of  February.  The  beauty  of  the  material 
world  is  just  bright  and  fair  enough  to  stimulate  that 
imaginative  faculty  the  creations  of  which  could  never 
be  acclimated  to  earth.  So  it  is  that  this  sense,  which 
opens  to  us  so  much  of  pure  and  intense  enjoyment, 
does  not  fail  to  suggest  conceptions  which  can  never 
be  realized  unless  it  might  be  in  some  brighter  and 
distant  sphere.  From  the  cottage  flower-garden,  such 
as  it  shows  itself  on  a  summer's  morning,  there  is  a 
pathway  which  the  imaginative  man  does  not  fail  often 
to  tread,  leading  to  the  unknown  and  the  infinite,  even 
to  a  world  of  absolute  beauty,  and  of  beauty  never  to 
decay. 

803.  On  a  path  that  is  still  more  direct,  the  human 
mind  finds  its  way  toward  the  unknown  and  the  in- 
finite when  we  stand  in  presence  of  those  objects  in 
nature  which  give  rise  to  the  emotions  of  sublimity. 
In  front  of  Alpine  altitudes,  with  their  vast  upheaved 
masses,  commingled  cloud,  rock,  glacier,  cataract,  there 
is  excited  not  simply  admiration  and  awe,  but  there  is 
a  feeling  that  these  terrestrial  marvels  are  samples 
only,  shown  off  upon  this  planet  in  order  to  suggest  to 
man  the  idea  of  scenes  in  some  other  world  still  more 
stupendous.     If  earth  has  its  Alps,  and  its  Andes,  and 
its  Himalayas,  what  shall  be  the  spectacle  of  awe  which 
a  world  unknown  might  open  to  our  gaze  ? 

804.  Telluric  catastrophes,  volcanic  eruptions,  earth- 
quakes, deluges,  and  whatever  else  combines  ideas  of 
destructive  force  with  the  conception  of  sublimity,  has 
a  further  influence  in  carrying  the  mind,  if  it  be  sens- 
itive in  this  manner,  into  those  abysses  of  imaginative 


THE    UNKNOWN   AND   THE   INFINITE.  317 

terror  where  the  unknown  and  the  infinite  may  be  con- 
ceived of  as  unveiling  their  powers  to  the  utmost. 

805.  There  is  yet  a  path  which  may  be  trod  with 
less  trepidation,  and  with  more  fruit  and  advantage. 
The  nocturnal  heavens  may  at  a  first  glance  seem  more 
magnificent  than  sublime ;  but  undoubtedly  it  is  sub- 
lime when,  by  aid  of  reason,  we  penetrate  this  magnif- 
icence, and  become  cognizant  of  the  reality  which  is 
beyond.     Now  there  is  here  to  be  noted  a  change  in 
our  modes  of  thought  which  has  been  long  in  progress, 
and  which  is  now  advancing  toward  its  consummation. 
This  consummation  will  bring  with  it  a  consciousness 
of  relationship  to  the  unknown  and  the  infinite  of  a  far 
more  substantial  and  impressive  kind  than  hitherto  has 
been  admitted. 

806.  The  Hebrew  lyrist,  it  is  manifest,  had,  in  the 
course  of  his  midnight  meditations,  learned  to  penetrate 
beyond  the  visible  screen,  with  its  shining  decorations. 
"When  I  consider  Thy  heavens,  the  work  of  Thy  fin- 
gers, the  moon  and  the  stars  which  Thou  hast  ordain- 
ed"— these  modes  of  expression  indicate  what  we  might 
say  was  an  astronomic  conception  of  the  celestial  mech- 
anism or  framework — a  scheme  of  bodies  in  move- 
ment, in  comparison  of  which  vast  masses  and  move- 
ments man  and  his  petty  fortunes  seemed  of  small  sig- 
nificance.    But  this  same  scheme,  as  to  its  vastness 
and  these  motions,  was  then  unknown,  and,  as  un- 
known, the  starry  heavens  most  fitly  symbolized  the 
divine  attributes  :  they  spake  of  God  to  man,  and  they 
set  forth  to  his  intellect  and  to  his  imagination  the  re- 
lationship of  the  creature  to  the  Creator. 

807.  This  continued  to  be  the  ground  or  condition 


318  THE   WORLD   OP  MIND. 

of  astronomic  sentiment  among  those  cultured  nations 
that  had  not  admitted  the  scientific  spirit,  and  that 
lived  remote  from  the  schools  of  philosophy ;  but  in 
other  regions  the  abstractive  faculty  took  the  lead,  and 
Science  made  its  inroads,  not  only  upon  delusions  and 
upon  illusions,  but  also  upon  the  ground  of  genuine 
religious  sentiment  and  of  (true)  poetic  feeling.  The 
advances  of  the  strict  and  demonstrative  sciences  have 
a  constant  tendency  to  drive  off  from  the  field  they  oc- 
cupy, first,  superstitions  and  popular  errors,  and  then 
religious  feeling.  It  is  not  because  scientific  discover- 
ies and  demonstrated  principles  contain  in  themselves 
aught  that  is  contradictory  to  a  rational  religious  be- 
lief, but  it  is  because  the  faculties  which  are  called  into 
exercise,  and  which  are  powerfully  stimulated  in  the 
course  of  scientific  pursuits,  are  antagonistic  to  feeling 
of  every  kind ;  or,  if  they  do  not  make  war  upon  gen- 
uine and  spontaneous  emotions,  yet  they  quash  and 
neutralize  them. 

808.  A  scientific  age  may,  by  chance,  be  also  a  re- 
ligious age ;  but  if  the  two  powers  are  ever  synchro- 
nous, it  will  be  only  because  they  occupy  spaces  in  the 
community  that  are  far  remote  from  each  other,  and 
between  which  there  is  little  or  no  intercourse. 

809.  But  in  course  of  time,  that  which  comes  about 
is  this :  the  discoveries  of  science  and  its  ascertained 
facts  make  their  way  from  the  centre,  where  they  orig- 
inated, outward  and  abroad1  among  the  people :  first, 
it  is  the  more  highly  educated  that  receive  them ;  and 
at  length  the  broad  popular  mind  admits  and  assimi- 
lates whatever  philosophy  in  conclave  has  achieved. 
When  this  sporadic  assimilation  has  well  taken  place, 


THE   UNKNOWN   AND   THE   INFINITE.  319 

then  the  very  facts  which,  in  the  process  of  their  dis- 
covery and  establishment,  had  driven  off  all  feeling — 
poetry  and  piety — return  to  their  place  of  rightful  in- 
fluence in  nourishing  and  in  stimulating  feeling,  poetry, 
and  piety. 

810.  So  it  is  with  us  just  now.     It  is  quite  within 
a  recollected  time  —  a  fifty  years  —  that  science  has 
made  an  outburst  upon  the  fields  of  infinite  space  and 
of  infinite  time.     Although  the  modern  Astronomy  is 
of  a  much  older  date  than  this,  it  is  only  within  this 
period  that  it  has  made  sure  what,  in  the  last  century, 
were  little  better  than  bold  conjectures,  and  that  it  has 
established  itself,  and  has  won  a  firm  position  at  a  re- 
moteness in  the  universe  which,  although  it  be  far  be- 
yond the  range  of  conception,  is  yet  within  the  range 
of  reason,  and  is  cognizable,  also,  by  the  eye. 

811.  As  to  that  inroad  upon  the  fields  of  unknown 
time  which  Geology  has  made,  it  is  altogether  recent, 
and  that  first  consequence  of  a  great  scientific  move- 
ment in  the  dissipation  of  ancient  suppositions  and  the 
quashing  of  popular  notions  has  not  yet  had  its  full 
course.     A  little  while  must  still  be  allowed  before 
geological  science,  and  popular  feeling,  and  genuine  re- 
ligious conceptions  can  reach  their  due  respective  po- 
sitions, and  regain  the  equilibrium  that  has  been  so 
much  disturbed.     Yet  even  now  this  perturbation  is 
subsiding,  and  we  are  in  near  prospect  of  its  perma- 
nent adjustment. 

812.  Let  Astronomy  and  Geology  adjust  themselves 
fully  in  relation  to  the  cultured  popular  mind — let  the 
latter  especially  forget  its  querulous  mood  of  contempt- 
uous assault  upon  what  it  deems  to  be  "  ignorance  and 


320  THE  WORLD   OP   MIND. 

fanaticism,"  and  then  the  tranquil  result  of  discovery 
in  both  these  fields — the  astronomic  and  the  geologi- 
cal— shall  be  of  this  sort,  to  take  the  first  of  these : 
On  the  field  of  the  boundless  celestial  spaces,  the 
known  and  the  unknown,  the  finite  and  the  infinite 
have  been  brought  home  to  all  instructed  minds  in  a 
manner  which  is  quite  new  as  an  influence^  silently 
taking  effect  upon  the  human  reason,  and  which  is  in 
course  of  greatly  deepening  and  extending  the  most 
profound  of  its  convictions. 

813.  The  surest  of  all  the  several  modes  of  knowl- 
edge, namely,  the  eye,  and  the  infallible  methods  of 
mathematical  reasoning,  combine  to  remove  every  shade 
of  uncertainty  or  ambiguity  from  the  celestial  field,  so 
far,  indeed,  as  we  may  rightfully  profess  to  have  ex- 
plored it.  Processes  of  reasoning,  each  of  which  is 
sure  in  itself,  and  is  doubly  authenticated  by  the  co- 
incidence of  different  lines  of  proof,  establish  a  belief 
which  the  eye,  aided  by  the  telescope,  follows  out  and 
recognizes  :  it  is  Sense  and  Reason  together  that  carry 
us  out  to  the  orbit  of  the  most  remote  of  the  binary 
stars,  and  that  there  give  us  an  assured  intellectual 
standing.  But  where  is  it  ?  The  customary  answer 
is,  At  the  outskirts  of  the  material  universe,  or  near  to 
its  outskirts.  But  why  do  we  thus  assume  that  of 
which  we  have  no  evidence,  but  where,  on  the  contrary, 
such  evidence  as  we  may  find  carries  quite  another 
meaning  ?  Two  motives,  Jmt  neither  of  them  of  a 
substantial  kind,  oppose  our  further  progress.  Project 
the  right  line  AB  from  this,  our  solar  system,  to  the 
most  remote  of  the  now-resolved  nebulee.  Then  pro- 
duce it  further  in  the  same  direction  to  c.  Let  BC  be 


THE   UNKNOWN   AND   THE   INFINITE.  321 

equal  to  AB ;  and  then  why  should  we  not  assume  as 
a  fact  that  which  is  far  more  probable  than  the  con- 
trary, namely,  that  this  further  line  traverses  spaces 
which  are  occupied,  like  the  spaces  measured  by  AB, 
with  material  bodies,  shining  and  shone  upon  ?  The 
two  prejudices  contradictory  of  this  supposition  are 
these:  there  is  first  that  which  rests  upon  the  meta- 
physical axiom  that  matter  can  not  be  infinite,  and 
therefore  that  it  must  come  to  its  end  somewhere ;  and 
as  well  end  itself  at  B,  or  a  little  way  further  »on,  as 
any  where  else.  The  second  of  these  contradictions 
is  purely  of  an  imaginary  kind,  or  we  may  say  it  is 
simply  a  prejudice  of  feeling.  The  human  mind  is 
aghast  at  the  conception  of  material  infinitude,  and  it 
craves  permission  to  girdle  creation  somewhere — say 
a  little  way  beyond  the  range  of  the  telescope. 

814.  We  shall  soon  learn  to  get  ourselves  intellec- 
tually free  from  both  these  restraints,  and  then  we 
shall  come  under  the  influence  of  a  conception  or  an 
irresistible  belief,  which,  although  it  can  neither  be  ex- 
pressed in  due  form  of  words  as  a  proposition,  nor  yet 
entertained  as  if  we  could  grasp  it,  shall  exert  a  great 
influence  in  ruling  the  conceptions  of  all  minds  that 
are  capable  of  sustained  thought. 

815.  In  like  manner,  the  boundless  or  the  infinite 
in  Duration  is  brought  home  to  us  by  the  recent  rev- 
elations of  Geology.     On  this  field,  as  on  the  fields  of 
Astronomy,  the  KNOWN  mingles   itself  by  insensible 
degrees  with  the  UNKNOWN  and  the  Boundless,  or  the 
Infinite.     Just  as,  in  Astronomy,  those  facts,  on  the 
strength  of  which  we  travel  out  toward  the  infinite,  are 
immediate  objects  of  sight,  so  in  Geology,  those  facts, 

02 


322  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

on  the  strength  of  which  we  go  back  toward  an  era  in- 
calculably remote,  are  under  the  eye,  and,  moreover, 
they  are  in  our  hands.  Palpable  samples  of  organiza- 
tions that  are  too  ancient  for  our  arithmetic  to  express 
its  terms  in  its  customary  symbols  take  their  place  in 
our  museum  alongside  of  the  most  recent  exuviae. 
These  samples,  although  they  are  known  and  finite, 
yet  in  a  true  sense  do  they  set  forth  the  unknown  and 
the  infinite  of  the  material  universe ;  and  so  the  re- 
motest nebulae  are  known  and  finite,  but  they  speak 
of  that  which  is  unknown  and  infinite  in  the  conditions 
of  the  universe. 

816.  The  two  great  sciences,  ASTRONOMY  and  GE- 
OLOGY, which  both  of  them  may  be  called  recent  in  re- 
spect of  the  long  preceding  ages  in  which  they  were 
not,  are  so  far  of  unequal  date  as  that  the  one  of  them 
has  already  worked  itself  into  the  popular  mind,  while 
the  other  is  only  beginning  to  lodge  itself  there.     And 
yet  the  latest  born  has  far  outstripped  the  elder  in  one 
respect  that  gives  it  an  incalculable  advantage.     It  is 
Geology  that — let  the  expression  be  admitted — has 
breathed  a  history  upon  the  mechanism  of  the  material 
universe,  and  has  taught  us,  while  looking  at  its  seem- 
ingly unchanging  features,  to  think  and  to  speak  of 
eras,  and  of  beginnings,  and  of  progress,  and  of  con- 
summations. 

817.  Astronomy  long  before   had  whispered  the 
same  truths,  and  had  obscurely  taught  man  to  inter- 
pret the  periodicity  of  the  celestial  motions  in  this  very 
sense:  "these  all,"  it  had  said,  "  shall  wax  old  as  a 
garment,  and  shall  be  rolled  up  as  a  scroll ;"  but  Ge- 
ology has  now  spoken  aloud  of  a  beginning  and  an 


THE   UNKNOWN  AND   THE   INFINITE.  323 

end,  and  in  so  uttering  her  voice  has  shown  man  that 
he  himself  had  a  destined  moment  in  the  evolutions 
of  the  planetary  scheme. 

818.  Yet  this  chronologic  revelation  has  too  recently 
been  uttered  to  develop  its  meaning  as  related  to  our 
modes  of  thinking.     This  meaning  is,  however,  coming 
to  the  surface,  and  the  cultured  popular  mind  will  ere 
long  accept  it,  and  will  then  give  it  a  place  among 
universally-accepted  and  unquestioned  principles.     It 
is  not  merely  a  chronology  of  the  planet  that  is  spread- 
ing itself  out  before  us  in  our  museums — it  is  a  scheme, 
and  it  is  a  unity  of  purpose,  the  issues  of  which  have 
been  foreshadowed  from  the  very  commencement ;  it  is 
a  constant  movement  in  which  the  human  family  is 
included,  and  the  events  of  the  last  hour  of  which  were 
typified  at  the  very  dawn  of  life. 

819.  As  if  expressly  for  the  purpose  of  excluding 
those  vague  suppositions  which  might  grow  out  of 
these  recent  revelations  of  the  boundlessness  of  the 
material  universe,  another  revelation  has  run  on  con- 
temporaneously with  them,  namely,  that  of  which  the 
microscope  is  the  instrument.     The  infinite  of  the  ma- 
terial world  is  not — so  the  microscope  teaches  us — a 
confused  vastness,  but  it  is  the  infinite  of  perfection — 
perfection  carried  down  to  the  dimensions  of  an  un- 
dulation of  light,  or,  it  we  please,  to  the  diameter  of 
the  lenses  of  the  eye  of  an  animal,  millions  of  which 
may  be  found  careering  in  a  drop  of  water. 

820.  The  proper  theologic  inferences  that  may  be 
derivable  from  what  is  now  understood  concerning  the 
infinitude  of  the  universe  are  not  our  subject  at  this 
time.     What  we  have  to  do  with  is  the  fact  that  the 


324  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

relation  of  the  human  mind  to  the  unknown  and  the 
infinite  has,  in  such  a  way,  been  now  lately  opened  up 
by  these  two  young  sciences,  Astronomy  and  Geology, 
as  serves  to  give  validity  to  a  fundamental  principle 
of  a  better  logic,  and  to  add  confidence  to  the  steps  of 
those  who,  hereafter,  shall  advance  upon  the  arduous 
paths  of  a  higher  and  spiritual  philosophy.  This  fact 
claims  attention. 

821.  Astronomy,  as  we  have  said,  travels  outward 
from  its  beginning  on  this  planet,  and  it  goes  a  long 
way  forward  into  space  upon  a  path  that  is  solid  as 
adamant,  and  it  continues  to  move  onward  toward  the 
unknown  without  a  tremor,  for  at  any  moment  it  may 
securely  trace  its  steps  homeward.     And  in  like  man- 
ner the  sister  science,  Geology,  begins  its  boundless 
course,  as  we  may  say,  in  a  garden,  or  in  a  gravel-pit, 
or  by  the  road-side,  or  by  the  sea-side,  and  it  goes  on, 
risking  no  dangerous  leap,  attempting  no  flight,  but 
treading  forward  in  the  midst  of  things  that  are  visible 
and  palpable,  steadfast  in  its  adherence  to  the  surest 
principles  of  inferential  reasoning :  it  goes  on  until  it 
has  made  good  a  standing  at  a  point  so  remote  from 
the  present  moment  that  the  mind  averts  itself  from 
the  thought  of  the  awful  intervening  lapse  of  cycles 
of  ages. 

822.  Now  the  logical  principle  which  grows  out  of 
these  methods  of  reasoning  may  be  imbodied  in  these 
three  propositions : 

1.  The  Infinite,  although  it  is  not  to  be  compre- 
hended by  the  human  Reason,  may  be  infallibly  ap- 
prehended by  it,  or  may  be  brought  within  its  cogni- 
zable range,  and  may  be  known  as  unquestionable. 


THE   UNKNOWN   AND  THE   INFINITE.  325 

though  it  is  not  known  as  to  its  constituents  or  its 
conditions. 

2.  It  is  a  safe  and  sure  course  for  the  human  Reason 
to  take  up  any  of  the  constituents  or  conditions  of  the 
human  constitution,  intellectual  or  moral,  and  to  follow 
it  out  inferentially,  even  though  it  may  lead  us  toward 
the  unknown  and  the  infinite.     We  may  do  this  so 
long  as  each  inferential  step  is  itself  a  fact  or  a  rela- 
tion included  in  that  constitution. 

3.  An  inference  may  be  admitted  and  relied  upon 
as  being  itself  a  fact  or  a  relation  belonging  to  the 
human  constitution,  when,  if  we  refuse  to  admit  and 
to  rely  upon  it,  every  kind  of  inferential  reasoning 
ought,  at  the  same  time,  to  be  mistrusted  and  rejected. 

823.  The  human  mind  connects  itself  with  the  un-< 
known  and  the  infinite  in  various  modes  of  undefined 
feeling,  and  of  intuitive  or  irresistible  persuasion.  Man 
has  ever  recognized,  in  some  form  of  belief,  his  rela- 
tionship to  a  world  that  is  not  cognizable  by  the  senses. 
Toward  these  undefined  impressions  the  mass  of  man- 
kind, in  all  countries  and  times,  have  shown  themselves 
vividly  sensible,  and  the  multifarious  superstitions  of 
nations,  ancient  and  modern,  are  so  many  products  or 
consequences  of  this  same  consciousness  toward  an 
unearthly  universe  and  toward  unseen  powers,  benef- 
icent or  the  contrary.  Of  these  many  spurious  phases 
of  the  religious  consciousness  we  need  take  little  ac- 
count at  this  time ;  they  would  claim  to  be  included 
in  a  comprehensive  "Natural  History  of  Religion." 
What  is  of  far  more  significance  is  to  note  the  now- 
advancing  progress  of  thought,  which  is  at  work  in 
combining  our  recently  acquired  knowledge  of  the  In- 


326  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

finite  in  the  material  universe  with  that  genuine  and 
only  theologic  belief  which  is  worthy  of  much  regard 
— we  mean  the  theology  which  modern  nations  have 
derived  from  the  Canonical  Scriptures. 

824.  As  to  all  other  beliefs,  whether  they  be  twen- 
ty or  a  hundred,  they  are  museum  subjects  ;   they 
should  give  occupation  to  philosophical  antiquarian- 
ism  ;  but  in  any  practical  sense  we  have  quite  done 
with  them,  just  in  the  same  way  as  we  have  done  with 
the  Physical  Sciences  of  antiquity ;  they  were  good  in 
their  time,  but  that  time  is  past,  and  they  may  be  for- 
gotten. 

825.  The  only  form  of  truth,  moral  and  spiritual, 
concerning  the  Unknown  and  the  Infinite  which  in 
this  age  we  need  to  be  concerned  with  in  serious  mood, 
has  reached  us  in  that  one  way  which  alone  could  give 
it  fixity  among  the  multifarious  and  interminable  evo- 
lutions of  Meditative  Thought :  it  has  come  to  us  in 
the  categoric  or  peremptory  form  of  an  attested  utter- 
ance from  the  unseen  world.     Thus  reaching  us,  this 
body  of  religious  truth  takes  its  position  alongside  of 
our  modern  Physical  Science  in  this  way:  the  two 
revelations — the  Physical  and  the  Eeligious — both  of 
them  lead  on  toward  the  Infinite  and  the  Unknown, 
and  both  alike  take  their  departure  from  that  which  is 
intelligible,  and  definite,  and  certain.     Both  alike  are 
leadings  forward  from  the  less  to  the  greater — from 
the  Known  to  the  Unknown^  but  they  are  not  leadings 
from  that  which  is  sure  and  unquestionable  toward 
that  which  is  merely  conjectural. 

826.  Justly  to  be  suspected,  and  indeed  to  be  re- 
jected as  utterly  presumptuous  and  delusive,  would 


THE   UNKNOWN   AND  THE   INFINITE.  327 

be  any  scheme  which  should  pretend  to  bring  in  an 
aid  from  our  recent  scientific  discoveries  for  the  pur- 
pose of  putting  some  new  and  more  scientific  construc- 
tion upon  our  Biblical  Theology.  Any  such  scheme 
would  deserve  its  fate  when  speedily  consigned  to  its 
place  among  ten  thousand  forgotten  quackeries. 

827.  That  which  may  be  looked  for  as  likely  to 
come  about,  and  which  would  be  beneficial  in  its  ef- 
fects, is  of  this  sort.     In  the  prosecution  of  the  mod- 
ern Physical  Sciences  the  human  mind  has  demon- 
strated the  congruity  of  the  human  Eeason  with  that 
REASON  of  which  the  material  universe  is  the  product ; 
for  when  we  say  that  (within  certain  limits)  we  under- 
stand the  scheme  of  the  world  as  to  its  structure  and 
as  to  its  dynamics,  we  affirm  that  the  mind  which 
understands  and  the  MIND  which  has  produced  this 
scheme  of  things  are  in  unison,  or  that  they  are  con- 
vertible the  one  into  the  other. 

828.  It  is  an  indication,  or  it  is  a  consequence  of 
this  congruity,  that  the  human  Reason,  following  the 
least  fallible  of  its  means  of  knowledge,  has  lately  ex- 
tended or  expanded  so  immeasurably  its  personal  con- 
sciousness toward  Duration.     As  this  consciousness 
is  a  prime  distinction  of  the  human  mind — for  man 
alone,  of  all  creatures  around  him,  concerns  himself 
with  the  past  and  with  the  future — so  is  each  exten- 
sion of  this  consciousness  a  note  and  a  measurement 
of  the  advancement  of  the  individual  mind,  and  also 
of  the  advancement  of  races  and  communities.     The 
wider  the  prospect  which  the  individual  man  enjoys 
over  the  fields  of  Time,  the  greater  is  he  in  all  his 
sentiments,  and  the  nobler  in  his  modes  of  action,  and 


328  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

the  less  is  he  the  abject  and  passive  creature  of  the 
present  hour. 

829.  Now,  on  the  ground  of  this  principle,  it  is  a 
fact  worthy  of  all  regard  that  the  modern  mind  has  in- 
calculably extended  its  view  over  the  illimitable  fields 
of  Duration.     This  extension  is  not  a  vague  appre- 
hension of  countless  cycles,  but  it  is  a  strict  measur- 
ing of  times,  either  absolutely,  as  in  the  instance  of 
the  celestial  revolutions,  or  relatively,  as  in  the  Geo- 
logical eras.     The  two  sciences,  together  and  separate- 
ly, invite  us  to  tabulate  the  chronology  of  the  universe, 
and  they  aid  us  in  becoming  familiar  with  dates,  com- 
pared with  which  the  human  history  fills  only  an  hour. 

830.  So  it  is,  therefore,  at  this  time,  that  thought- 
addicted  minds  are  led  out  toward  a  position  whence 
a  prospect  may  be  had  upon  which  none  but  the  inher- 
itors of  immortality  could  dare  to  open  the  eye — nay, 
upon  which  no  eye  which  is  itself  of  short  date  would 
ever  fix  itself  otherwise  than  with  a  vacant  gaze. 

831.  At  this  present  time  all  things  are  conspiring 
to  bring  thoughtful  minds  into  a  new  conscious  rela- 
tionship with  the  unknown  and  the  infinite  on  the  field 
of  Time.     The  deathless  energies,  the  agonies  ot  hu- 
man affection,  have  always  uttered  an  outcry  for  im- 
mortality ;  it  is  the  first  need  of  the  human  heart. 
The  moral  instincts,  unquenchably  vivid  as  they  are, 
have  always  demanded  the  future,  and  have  told  us 
that  that  future  must  be  endless.     The  unspent  ener- 
gies of  Reason,  full  of  force  as  they  often  are,  even  to 
the  last  moments  of  the  animal  organization,  ask  for 
the  future,  and  could  more  easily  accept  annihilation 
now  than  imagine  it  as  ,  the  end  of  a  higher  course. 


GENERA  AND   SPECIES.  329 

The  only  theology  which  can  Tbe  thought  of  as  true 
affirms,  and  builds  itself  upon  a  boundless  futurity ; 
and  now,  and  as  if  it  were  the  silent  preliminary  to  a 
universal  acceptation  of  this  belief,  the  two  surest  and 
greatest  of  the  Sciences  are  beckoning  us  to  follow 
where  they  lead,  even  to  a  ridge  whence  man,  immor- 
tal as  he  is,  may  take  his  range,  this  way  and  that, 
over  boundless  fields  of  duration,  and  may  learn  to 
know  himself  as  the  heir  of  an  endless  existence.  It 
is  thus,  then,  that  the  unknown  and  the  infinite  are 
now,  in  these  last  days,  in  course  of  opening  their  mys- 
teries to  human  thought  and  feeling,  not  on  the  un- 
fenced  fields  of  metaphysical  speculation,  but  on  the 
charted  pathway  of  direct  knowledge  and  demonstra- 
tion. 


XXIII. 

GENERA  AND   SPECIES   IN  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

832.  IN  that  strict  and  unambiguous  sense  in  which 
the  terms  Genus  and  Species  are  applied  to  the  sev- 
eral kinds  of  vegetable  and  animal  organization,  we 
must  not  think  of  applying  them  to  any  of  those  dif- 
ferences which  present  themselves  within  the  World 
of  Mind.,  Organizations,  vegetable  or  animal,  are  class- 
ified on  the  ground  ot  a  sameness  and  a  difference 
which  are  precise,  and  which  are  constant,  and  which 
are  cognizable  by  the  eye  and  the  hand.  But  as  to 
any  differences  that  may  distinguish  mind  from  mind 
in  the  human  family,  although  they  may  be  great  if  we 


330  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

think  of  the  interval  between  extreme  instances,  it  is 
so  indefinitely  bordered  that  only  in  an  imperfect  man- 
ner can  it  be  kept  apart  from  its  confines  above  it  and 
beneath  on  the  scale. 

833.  It  is,  then,  only  in  a  less  exact  sense  that  we 
may  speak  of  Genera  and  Species  in  the  World  of 
Mind.     It  is  not  as  if  the  differences  were  not  real, 
and  some  of  them  are  very  great ;  but  it  is  only  when 
they  are  the  greatest  that  we  can  mark  them  off  with 
certainty. 

834.  Two  questions,  each  of  them  carrying  with  it 
some  weighty  consequences  of  a  practical  kind,  meet 
us  at  the  outset  on  this  ground.     The  first  of  these 
questions  relates  to  the  difference  between  the  Animal 
Mind  in  the  orders  around  us  and  the  Human  Mind ; 
and  we  have  to  ask,  How  great  is  that  difference,  and 
what  are  the  distinctive  characters  of  the  two  ?     The 
second  question  is  this :  Within  the  human  family,  or 
the  several  races  that  are  allowed  to  belong  physiolog- 
ically to  the  genus  or  the  order  HOMO,  are  there  any 
differences  beyond  those  which  should  be  regarded  as 
varieties  only,  or  as  individual  deviations  from  a  com- 
mon type  ?     Or  otherwise  to  put  the  question :  Are 
the  several  races  of  the  human  family  distributable 
into  Genera  and  Species  in  respect  of  their  intellectual 
and  moral  endowments  ? 

835.  Questions  so  grave  as  these  would  demand 
treatises  for  arriving  at  a  conclusive  answer.     Yet 
even  in  an  elementary  book  they  claim  to  be  brought 
forward,  and  to  be  assigned  to  their  due  place  in  our 
compendium  of  the  subjects  belonging  to  Mental  Phi- 
losophy. 


GENERA  AND   SPECIES.  331 

836.  In  regard  to  subjects  of  this  kind,  it  is  a  mis- 
taken anxiety  that  would  at  all  restrict  the  freedom 
with  which  we  should  discuss  them,  as  if  any  conclu- 
sion we  might  arrive  at,  on  either  side,  were  likely  to 
bring  into  jeopardy  some  article  of  our  religious  belief. 
Eeligious  belief  is  indeed  always  endangered  by  igno- 
rance, by  superstitious  apprehensions,  or  by  a  blind 
dogmatism,  but  it  can  have  nothing  to  fear  from  the 
calm  and  independent  pursuit  of  truth  in  matters  of 
Philosophy. 

837.  In  inquiring  concerning  the  difference  between 
the  animal  mind  in  the  lower  orders  and  the  human 
Mind,  we  might  be  prompted  by  an  ill-judging  anxiety 
for  securing  the  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the  hu- 
man soul  to  start  with  the  assumption  (wholly  gratu- 
itous as  it  is)  that  the  soul  of  Man,  being  a  pure  and 
simple  immaterial  substance,  is  necessarily  immortal, 
for  it  is  imperishable  in  its  very  nature.     Then,  hav- 
ing taken  this  hypothetic  ground,  and  feeling  a  repug- 
nance to  the  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the  animal 
orders,  we  find  ourselves  compelled,  by  logical  consist- 
ency, to  affirm  that  these  lower  orders  are  not  partak- 
ers of  Mind ;  that  they  have  no  soul ;  and  then  our 
alternative  must  be  this:   that  the  animal  mind  is 
nothing  more  than  a  function  of  animal  organization, 
or  that  consciousness  and  voluntary  action  are,  what 
Materialists  affirm  them  to  be,  products  of  the  brain  or 
of  the  nervous  substance  in  the  ganglia. 

838.  But  this  is  indeed  a  perilous  admission.     The 
indications  of  mind  in  the  animal  orders  being  such  as 
they  are,  and  touching  so  closely  as  they  do  upon  anal- 
ogous facts  in  human  nature,  we  shall  find  ourselves 


332  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

entangled  in  an  utterly  impracticable  and  hopeless  ar- 
gument when  we  attempt  to  confute  materialism  as  to 
human  nature  after  we  have  conceded  its  main  points 
in  relation  to  the  brute  mind. 

839.  The  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the  human 
soul  rests  upon  its  own  ground,  and  will  be  quite  safe 
so  long  as  it  is  left  to  rely  upon  its  proper  evidence. 
So  far  as  religious  opinions  of  any  kind  are  implicated 
in  scientific  inquiries,  it  is  of  far  more  consequence  to 
establish  the  great  principle  of  the  absoluteness  of  the 
difference  between  Mind  and  Matter  than  to  insist 
upon  a  distinction  between  the  higher  and  the  lower 
orders  of  Mind,  which,  if  indeed  it  could  be  established, 
would  merge  that  distinction,  and  would  hand  us  over, 
without  help,  to  Materialism. 

840.  Our  assumptions  are  these:  first,  that  the 
identity  of  the  lower  and  the  higher  orders  of  Mind  is 
such  as  to  support  the  belief  of  the  essential  homogene- 
ousness  of  the  two ;  and,  secondly,  that  the  points  of 
distinction  between  the  two  are  so  broadly  marked  and 
are  so  well  defined  that  they  must  be  held  to  indicate 
a  generic  and  inconvertible  difference. 

841.  In  the  preceding  sections  we  have  stated  what 
those  points  of  identity  are  which  support  the  conclu- 
sion that  MIND  is  mind  in  all  those  orders  of  organ- 
ized beings  that,  by  means  of  consciousness  and  vol- 
untary action,  are  qualified  to   defend  and  conserve 
their  individual  well-being.  (  To  those  points  of  dif- 
ference which   constitute  the  prerogatives  of  human 
nature  we  shall  presently  advert,  but  first  may  in- 
quire whether  MIND,  as  developed  in  the  animal  or- 
ders, might  be  brought  under  any  system  of  classi- 


GENEEA   AND   SPECIES.  333 

fication,  so  as  to  be  distributed  into  Genera  and  Spe- 
cies. 

842.  We  might,  for  instance,  take,  as  the  grounds 
of  classification,  the  more  obvious  characteristics  of  the 
animal  orders,  considering  them  as  distributable  under 
such  heads  as  these :  the  predatory  and  ferocious ;  the 
insidious  and  wily ;  the  habitative  and  constructive ; 
the  gregarious  and  ruminative,  and  the  solitary ;  or  we 
might  assume,  as  the  basis  of  a  broad  distinction,  the 
predominance  of  what  we  have  termed  Fixed  Eeason, 
or  of  its  opposite,  Free  Reason. 

843.  But  now,  on  any  such  ground  as  this,  the  fact 
will  present  itself,  that  the  Genera  and  Species  of  Mind 
in  the  animal  orders  are  not  conterminous  with  those 
distinctions  of  Genera  and  Species  which  have  respect 
to  external  form  and  to  organic  structure.     A  mo- 
ment's attention  to  facts  will  show  this :  the  animal 
orders  of  all  classes  are  divisible  into  the  consumers  of 
vegetable  substances  and  the  consumers  of  the  living 
substance.    Now,  to  take  these  latter,  the  carnivorous, 
the  predaceous,  the  wholesale  swallowers  of  swarms, 
or  the  insidious  entrappers  of  a  single  victim,  we  must 
run  the  round  of  the  animal  system,  through  the  mam- 
malia, the  birds,  the  reptiles,  the  fishes,  the  insects, 
the  infusoria.     An  indictment  on  the  general  charge 
of  inflicting  death  at  the  impulse  of  appetite  embraces 
creatures  of  all  varieties  of  form  and  functional  struc- 
ture— the  tiger,  the  pike,  the  lizard,  the  spider. 

844.  If,  then,  we  were  to  assume  this  predacity, 
with  its  fierceness  of  temper,  and  its  remorselessness, 
and  its  wiliness,  as  a  generic  characteristic  in  the  world 
of  Mind,  then,  as  we  see,  it  must  embrace  very  many 


334  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

orders,  and  genera,  and  species,  such  as  they  are  class- 
ified by  the  Naturalist.  The  same  fact  presents  it- 
self, whatever  may  be  the  disposition  or  the  tendency 
which  we  take  as  the  basis  of  a  distribution  into  gen- 
era— it  may  be  Constructiveness,  or  the  gregarious  in- 
stincts, or  the  domesticable  faculty.  We  shall  be 
driven,  therefore,  into  the  perplexity  of  a  double  scheme 
of  classification,  the  one  of  which  will  nowhere  be  con- 
terminous with  the  other. 

845.  The  effecting  of  such  a  classification  would  be 
a  worthy  object  of  scientific  industry,  and  those  who 
addict  themselves  to  Mental  Philosophy  would  look  on 
with  animation  while  it  was  in  course  of  completion ; 
but  it  is  manifest  that  the  grounds  on  which  it  must 
be  carried  out  would  be  physiological  much  rather  than 
intellectual  or  moral.  The  mental  disposition — say 
the  predaceous  energy — indicates  itself  not  merely  in 
certain  habits  and  modes  of  action  when  the  prey  is  in 
sight,  but  by  certain  characteristics  of  the  form,  or,  as 
we  should  call  them,  physiognomical  analogies.  The 
hygena,  the  shark,  the  kite,  will  be  found  to  be  allied 
in  facial  contour  or  in  some  other,  and  perhaps  more 
occult  accordances  of  line  and  color ;  and  therefore  it 
must  be  that,  in  the  process  of  digesting  a  scheme  of 
classification  on  the  ground  of  mental  identities  and 
differences,  we  should  at  every  step  be  led  forth  upon 
the  path  of  Physiological  Science :  it  would  be  from 
this  field  that  we  must  gather  the  mass  of  our  evi- 
dences. The  task  may  be  an  inviting  one,  and  by  no 
means  unimportant,  but  it  is  subject  to  conditions 
which  barely  consist  with  the  style  and  usages  of  In- 
tellectual Philosophy. 


GENERA   AND   SPECIES.  335 

846.  This  passing  reference  to  a  large  subject  must 
be  enough  in  this  place.     The  first  of  the  two  ques- 
tions above  stated  demands  more  attention.     The  es- 
sential homogeneousness  of  the  animal  and  the  human 
Mind  having  been  assumed,  then  the  question  presents 
itself,  What  are  the  precise  points  of  difference  between 
the  two,  vast  as  that  difference  is  ? 

847.  In  the  preceding  sections  we  have  incidentally 
mentioned  the  most  obvious  of  these  differences,  and 
have  spoken  of  them  as  "  points  of  divergence"  (Sect. 
XI.)  of  the  higher  and  lower  orders  of  Mind  ;  but  per- 
haps they  would  more  correctly  be  named  points  of 
departure  ;  for,  in  truth,  wherever  it  is  that  the  human 
Mind  contrasts  itself  with  the  brute  mind,  there  and 
thence  it  is  that  the  higher  mind  starts  forward  upon 
an  interminable  path,  leaving  the  lower  mind  forever 
fixed  at  the  same  spot. 

848.  If  we  were  to  look,  not  so  much  to  the  inner 
causes  of  the  difference  between  the  two  orders  as  to 
the  consequences  and  the  products  of  that  difference, 
then  these  consequences  challenge  attention  on  that 
very  ground  where  theorists  of  a  certain  class  are  apt 
to  take  their  argumentative  stand,  and  to  allege  that 
when  Man — the  savage,  and  while  he  is  in  what  they 
would  affirm  to  be  his  primitive  condition — is  brought 
into  comparison  with  the  nobler  orders  of  animals, 
scarcely  any  advantage  over  them  can  be  claimed  for 
him ;  on  the  contrary,  the  balance  of  good  qualities 
and  of  well-doing  is  on  the  side  of  the  perfectly  condi- 
tioned and  the  rightly  conducted  quadruped. 

849.  It  is  when  we  find  him  fallen  into  the  depths 
of  physical  and  moral  perdition  (which  is  never,  and  in 


336  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

no  sense  a  primitive  state)  that  we  may  with  the  full- 
est confidence  predict  for  him  a  boundless  advance- 
ment, if  only  he  can  be  led  to  set  a  returning  foot  upon 
the  road  of  his  better  destiny.  The  brute  never  falsi- 
fies his  destination ;  he  never  fails  to  reach  his  ulti- 
matum of  possible  good ;  but  Man  fails  to  do  so,  be- 
cause, while  far  more  is  possible  to  him  than  is  em- 
braced in  any  impulses  which  he  shares  with  the  brute, 
even  his  animal  well-being  is  made  to  be  dependent 
upon  his  pursuit  of  a  higher  good  than  that. 

850.  Mind,  in  all  orders,  indicates  the  simplicity  of 
its  structure  as  well  in  its  active  as  in  its  passive  rudi- 
ments (268),  and  suggests  the  belief  that  it  is  One  Ele- 
ment, or  that  a  single  principle  is  endowed  at  once 
with  Power  and  with  Sensibility  toward  the  material 
world.     Power  introvertible,  and  consciousness  in  a 
reflective  sense,  may  be  universal  properties  of  Mind, 
and  yet  may  be  feebly  developed  in  the  animal  orders, 
while  they  are  decisively  developed  only  in  human 
nature.     So  it  is  that  those  instincts  which,  in  some 
orders,  approach  the  border  of  the  social  affections, 
come  to  their  end  short  of  it. 

851.  We  have  said  (313)  that  there  is  nothing  in  the 
constitution  of  Man  which  has  not  been  dimly  sym- 
bolized in  the  structure  of  the  lower  orders,  and  this 
general  principle  holds  good  in  relation  both  to  body 
and  mind.     As  it  is  with  the  emotions  and  affections, 
so  is  it  with  the  intellect.     That  which  develops  itself 
with  a  boundless  energy  in  Man  just  claims  to  be  no- 
ticed as  a  rudiment — a  mere  germ  in  the  structure  of 
the  animal  reason.     There  is  little,  if  any  thing,  in 
human  nature  of  which  we  can  be  warranted  in  deny- 


GENERA   AND   SPECIES.  337 

ing  absolutely  the  elementary  existence  in  the  animal 
nature.  Not  merely  does  Reason  hold  its  sway  in  the 
animal  world  as  a  fixed  product  of  Mind,  a  stereotyped 
mechanic  process,  but  it  rules  also  to  some  extent  as  a 
free  force,  adapting  itself  to  the  variable  occasions  of 
each  moment.  Nevertheless,  there  is  a  degree  of  de- 
velopment in  the  one  nature  of  which  nothing  beyond 
a  dim  indication  ever  presents  itself  in  the  other  nature, 
and  this  development  affords  ground  enough,  first,  for 
the  conclusion  that  there  is  a  generic  difference  between 
the  one  and  the  other,  and  then  for  our  after  conclu- 
sion, that  no  such  generic  difference  has  existence 
among  the  several  races  of  the  human  family. 

852.  Of  the  difference  between  the  rudimental  or 
germ  condition  of  a  faculty,  and  the  condition  of  the 
same  when  it  is  freely  developed,  we  find  an  instance 
in  that  conscious  individuality  which  results  from  our 
feeling  toward  the  world  around  us  as  an  independent 
and  extraneous  existence,  to  which  the  EGO  stands 
opposed. 

853.  In  the  animal  mind,  the  ripening  of  sensations 
into  perceptions  is  a  process  which  seems  to  take  place 
instantaneously,  or  nearly  so,  in  the  first  moments  after 
birth ;  but  with  the  human  infant  it  results  from  a 
lengthened  course  of  experiences,  including  frequent 
mistakes,  and  the  slow  correction  of  them,  which  bring 
about  this  same  transmutation  of  organic  sensations 
into  their  final  state  as  cognitions  of  external  objects. 

854.  The  relations  of  the  animal  well-being  and  of 
the  animal  agency  toward  the  external  world  are  few 
and  uniform,  but  the  relations  of  the  human  well-being 
(animal  and  emotional)  toward  the  external  world  are 

P 


338  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

many  and  variable.  Those  objects  around  us  with 
which  we  have  most  often  to  do,  as  desirable  or  as  un- 
desirable, come  before  us  under  infinitely  varied  com- 
plications with  other  objects,  and  with  our  own  feel- 
ings, and  appetites,  and  purposes  at  different  times. 
From  these  ever-shifting  complexities  it  comes  about 
that  the  very  same  objects  are  regarded  in  a  wholly 
different  mood  at  different  times,  even  within  the  com- 
pass of  an  hour.  Hence  it  is  that  the  human  con- 
sciousness of  the  Ego  congests  itself  into  a  principal 
consciousness,  or  a  leading  and  a  ruling  mode  of 
Thought,  and  this  thought  finds  its  counterpoise  in 
the  thought  of  the  external  world  as  related  to  our- 
selves and  we  to  it,  sometimes  in  one  manner  and 
sometimes  in  another  manner. 

855.  On  this  ground,  then,  there  comes  before  us  an 
instance  of  an  incalculable  divergence  of  the  one  order 
of  mind  from  the  other  order,  arising  from  a  higher 
complexity  in  the  structure  of  the  one  than  is  found 
in  the  structure  of  the  other.    While  the  habit  is  form- 
ing of  regarding  the  same  external  object  with  varying 
feelings,  the  human  infant  is  receiving  its  early  lesson 
in  the  exercise  of  the  abstractive  faculty. 

856.  But  a  still  more  advanced  lesson  on  the  same 
path  is  received  when,  in  place  of  the  external  object 
present  to  the  senses,  the  mind  has  to  do  with  its  own 
stored  and  much-intermingled  conceptions  of  these  ob- 
jects among  which  it  exercises  that  disposing  power 
which  is  its  prerogative.     The  actual  objects  of  the 
external  world  may  affect  us  in  several  different  modes, 
and  they  may  find  us  in  different  moods ;  but  as  to 
our  treasured  conceptions  of  such  objects — these,  sep- 


GENERA   AND   SPECIES.  339 

arable  as  they  are  into  their  elements,  and  liable  as 
they  are  to  infinitely  varied  combinations,  may,  and  in 
fact  do,  affect  the  mind  in  modes  that  are  varied  and 
changeful  to  an  incalculable  extent.  It  is  among  these 
gambols  and  fortuities  of  the  conceptive  faculty  that 
the  human  mind  learns  to  exercise  its  UNCONDITIONED 
CONTROL  over  the  boundless  stores  of  Thought. 

857.  The  point  of  divergence  of  the  higher  and  the 
lower  orders  of  Mind  we  have  already  considered  in 
Section  XL,  and  if  the  suggestions  therein  advanced 
were  pursued  to  their  extent,  the  difference  between 
the  two  orders  of  Mind  would  present  itself  conspicu- 
ously.    The  conceptive  faculty  undoubtedly  belongs 
to  Mind  in  the  lower  orders,  but  there  is  little  reason 
to  think  that  a  control  over  its  combinations  is  exer- 
cised by  them  any  more  than  it  is  by  the  human  mind 
during  sleep. 

858.  But  if  this  sovereign  power  has  but  once  been 
exerted,  then  the  emotional  element — the  intellectual 
and  the  moral — comes  into  play,  and  thenceforward  a 
perpetual  interaction  is  taking  place  between  the  free 
Mind  Power  and  the  emotional  quality  of  those  stores 
which  the  conceptive  faculty  is  ready  to  supply  in 
boundless  abundance.     So  it  is  that,  in  the  exercise 
of  its  liberty  upon  its  materials,  the  human  mind  cre- 
ates its  own  world  of  feeling,  whether  it  be  pleasura- 
ble or  painful,  and  it  enters  upon  an  interior  life,  in 
which  the  rudiments  indeed  are  found  in  minds  of  in- 
ferior species,  but  of  which  no  developments — no  prod- 
ucts— present  themselves  any  where  beneath  the  hu- 
man level. 

859.  The  sports  and  gambols  of  the  young  of  ani- 


340  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

mals  are  outbursts  of  superfluous  or  unoccupied  mus- 
cular energy  or  unspent  nervous  stock.  The  sports 
and  gambols  of  the  infant  Man  have  the  same  origin ; 
but  the  self-devised  amusements  or  the  pastimes  of  the 
human  infant  are  utterances  of  that  power  by  which, 
with  incalculable  velocity,  the  Mind  fashions  new  worlds 
out  of  its  own  materials.  The  rude  toy,  the  shapeless 
block,  the  tile,  the  brickbat,  the  pebbles,  the  straws — 
these  are  symbols,  and  each  of  them  is,  or  may  be,  the 
representative  of  things  large  as  worlds  and  bright  as 
suns. 

860.  It  is  from  the  readiness  with  which  the  Mind 
puts  together  anew  the  ingredients  of  the  conceptive 
faculty  that  the  Sense  of  Resemblance  (400)  is  so  oft- 
en and  so  easily  awakened.     Five  straws  have  been 
brought  into  a  certain  juxtaposition  upon  the  pavement 
by  a  gust  of  wind.     In  this  inter-relationship  of  lines 
the  human  eye  catches  how  many  images  of  things 
great,  remote,  grotesque,  supernatural  ?     There  is,  per- 
haps, a  royal  personage  with  his  crown  and  sceptre ; 
or  there  is  a  volcano  in  eruption ;  or  there  is  a  ship 
driving  before  a  gale ;  or  there  is  a  pair  of  knightly 
foes  intent  upon  each  other's  destruction.     Are  there 
any  facts  on  record  whence  we  should  be  warranted  in 
conjecturing  that  the  most  sagacious  of  animals  de- 
rives any  similar  pleasure  from  a  similar  fortuity  ? 
We  think  not.     But  then  we  have  in  view  a  product 
of  Mind,  incalculable  in  its  consequences,  arising  out 
of  a  complicity  of  faculties  which  belong,  in  their  mere 
rudiments^  as  well  to  the  lower  as  to  the  higher  orders 
of  Mind. 

861.  We  have  briefly  named  in  the  twelfth  Section 


GENERA  AND  SPECIES.  341 

the  Intellectual  Emotions  which  prompt  the  human 
Mind  to  set  forward  upon  those  courses  of  intellectual 
labor  of  which  Philosophy,  and  the  Arts  of  life,  and 
the  imaginative  arts  are  the  product.  The  one  char- 
acteristic of  these  emotions  is  this :  that  the  exciting 
cause — the  object  immediately  pursued,  and  so  eager- 
ly caught  at  when  near  at  hand,  is  either  something 
that  is  absolutely  irrespective  of  the  material  well-be- 
ing, or  it  is  related  to  these  ordinary  and  lower  inter- 
ests only  in  an  oblique,  indirect,  and  remote  manner. 
It  is  the  distinction  of  the  human  mind  to  follow,  with 
the  utmost  intensity,  objects  which  are  situated  quite 
outside  of  the  circle  of  personal  and  common  enjoy- 
ments. Mind,  in  the  lower  orders,  gives  no  indication 
of  being  liable  to  impulses  of  this  kind. 

862.  This  same  distinction  is  broadly  marked  in 
relation  to  the  social  and  cementing  emotions  and  af- 
fections spoken  of  in  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
Sections.    In  the  lower  orders,  the  social  affections,  if 
so  we  may  call  them,  find  their  object  among  beings 
that  are  proximate  both  in  time  and  space :  it  is  one 
of  the  same  species  (with  rare  exceptions)  now  present 
and  in  view.    Human  affections,  like  electric  influences, 
flow  out  to  great  distances  with  unabated  intensity. 
Distance  does  not  weaken  them,  time  does  not  slake 
them.     Human  affection,  whenever  it  rises  above  or 
goes  beyond  an  instinctive  fondness,  draws  to  itself  a 
force  derived,  though  unconsciously,  from  the  unknown 
and  the  infinite  of  a  life  hereafter. 

863.  By  introverted  action — by  the  incessant  re- 
volving of  the  elements  of  the  past  consciousness  with 
the  present  and  the  foreseen  future,  the  human  mind 


342  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

learns,  first,  to  contemplate  the  individual  lot  as  a  con- 
tinuous experience— a  history,  and  then  to  think  of 
the  personal  welfare  of  those  most  loved  within  its 
circle  in  the  same  historic  sense.  Human  affections, 
therefore,  are  drawn  out,  without  a  weakening  of  the 
texture,  to  incalculable  extents.  The  fibres  of  Love 
— sensitive  in  the  highest  degree — penetrate  the  dark 
future,  as  well  as  embrace  all  distances  of  earth. 

864.  When  thus  thought  of,  it  is  manifest  that  a 
vast  interval  separates  the  animal  nature  from  human 
nature,  even  without  including  that  which  connects 
man  with  a  moral  and  spiritual  economy,  and  which 
would  open  before  us  an  interval  immeasurably  more 
vast.     There  can  then  be  no  room  for  controversy — 
there  is  no  pretext  for  paradox  when  it  is  affirmed  that, 
as  in  respect  of  the  intellectual  faculties,  so,  and  not 
less  decisively,  in  respect  of  the  social  affections,  a  dif- 
ference presents  itself  between  the  lower  and  the  high- 
er orders  of  Mind  which  is  great,  and  is  broadly  mark- 
ed, and  is  constant  also.     In  a  word,  the  difference  is 
not  one  of  degree,  but  of  Genus. 

865.  Yet  in  relation  to  any  practical  inference,  it  is 
enough  if  we  affirm  only  this — that  Mind  in  human 
nature  possesses  an  amount  of  introvertible  or  reflect- 
ive power  so  far  surpassing  that  of  the  animal  orders 
that  the  two  natures  are  even  more  decisively  contrast- 
ed in  Mind  than  they  are  in  visible  form  and  structure. 

866.  It  is  but  at  a  few  points  that  the  human  sys- 
tem infringes  upon  the  great  community  of  animal  life 
in  any  mode  of  interference  or  invasion ;  for  if,  indeed, 
that  community  could  be  numbered,  then  the  few  mill- 
ions that  are  annually  devoured  by  man,  and  those 


GENERA  AND   SPECIES.  343 

that  are  reduced  to  servitude  for  his  convenience, 
would  seem  too  few  to  be  much  regarded :  they  make 
up,  at  the  most,  only  a  small  exceptive  case. 

867.  None  but  Oriental  mystics,  or  the  most  whim- 
sical theorists  among  ourselves,  have  gone  so  far  out 
of  the  road  of  common  sense  as  to  lodge  a  complaint 
against  the  lords  of  the  world  on  the  ground  of  their 
carnivorous  practices,  or  of  the  task  and  service  which 
is  exacted  of  the  horse,  the  camel,  the  elephant.    There 
can  be  no  need  to  enter  into  controversy  with  those 
who  might  profess  doctrines  so  unsubstantial,  and  who, 
if  they  would  be  consistent,  should  devise  means  for 
spending  their  years  on  the  summit  of  mountains,  above 
the  highest  region  of  insect  life.    We  take  it  for  certain 
that,  when  the  slumbering  tenants  of  a  hive  are  stifled 
in  their  beds,  and  when  man  converts  to  his  "  own  use 
and  benefit"  the  stores  they  have  amassed,  no  wrong 
is  done ;  there  is  indeed  a  spoliation,  but  there  is  no 
robbery. 

868.  When  Rights  and  Wrongs  come  into  ques- 
tion, it  must  be  among  those  who  in  mind  are  so  far 
fellows  as  that  the  sufferers  are  competent  to  plead 
their  own  cause,  and  they  may  do  this  if  indeed  they 
have  any  consciousness  of  the  wrong.     It  is  not  the 
dimensions  of  an  os  calcis,  it  is  not  a  facial  angle,  it  is 
not  a  prognathous  profile,  and  certainly  it  is  not  the 
precise  quality  of  the  secretion  in  the  rete  mucosum 
that  can  be  admitted  to  prohibit  their  urging  the  plea 
of  justice  on  the  ground  of  humanity,  if  themselves 
have  any  notion  of  justice. 

869.  Nor  is  it  any  individual  inferiority,  whether  as 
to  the  Reason  or  as  to  the  Emotional  sensibility,  that 


344  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

can  bar  an  argument  of  this  sort.  The  inferiority  of 
the  infant,  and  of  the  aged,  and  of  the  imbecile,  and  of 
the  sick,  does  not  throw  any  shade  of  ambiguity  upon 
questions  of  rights  and  wrongs.  On  the  contrary,  so 
far  as  a  consideration  of  the  helplessness  that  attaches 
to  any  such  inferiority  can  be  admitted  to  affect  our 
conclusions,  it  must  be,  or  it  will  be  so  with  all  but 
the  basest  minds — it  must  be  to  enhance  the  sacred- 
ness  of  those  rights  which  the  strong  and  the  astute 
might  be  tempted  to  violate. 

870.  There  are  two  conditions  which  should  attach 
to  any  inferiority,  intellectual  or  moral,  that  is  admit- 
ted as  the  ground  on  which  the  rights  of  humanity  are 
denied  to  those  whom  the  physiologist  allows  to  be 
human.     The  first  of  these  is  this :  that  the  alleged 
inferiority  is  so  broadly  marked  as  that  it  can  be  lia- 
ble to  no  uncertainty  in  single  instances ;  for  if  it  be 
not  thus  clearly  marked,  then  the  strong  and  the  ra- 
pacious will  be  prompted  to  adjudge  such  cases  in  their 
own  manner.     On  such  a  supposition  the  foundations 
of  human  society  would  be  shaken,  for  the  feeble  and 
the  unwary  would  every  where  become  the  victims  of 
the  robust  and  the  crafty. 

871.  The  second  of  these  conditions  is  this :  that 
the  inferior  race  or  the  subjugated  class  should,  by 
structure  of  mind — by  its  generic  constitution,  be  in- 
capable of  admitting  and  of  harboring  the  conscious- 
ness of  being  the  victims  of  (a  wrongful  system,  and 
should  not  be  liable  to  any  of  those  intense  emotions 
that  impel  the  sufferer  to  look  upon  the  inflictor  of 
suffering  with  hatred,  and  to  regard  him  as  an  enemy. 

872.  The  reason  of  this  second  condition  is  obvious. 


GENERA  AND   SPECIES.  345 

A  harbored  hatred  or  resentment,  prompting  the  victim 
to  purposes  of  revenge,  is  a  reciprocated  feeling.  The 
inflictor  of  suffering — the  doer  of  a  wrong,  never  fails 
to  entertain  a  reverberative  consciousness  which  in- 
spires him  with  terror,  and  which  suggests  to  his  fears 
measures  of  precaution  and  acts  of  intimidation.  And 
thus  suffering  is  added  to  suffering,  and  wrong  is  heap- 
ed upon  wrong.  It  is  a  universal  law  that  wrong  is 
the  first  of  a  series  of  wrongs.  Now  it  may  be  held 
as  certain  that  we  are  running  counter  to  the  great 
laws  of  the  sentient  world  whenever  any  suffering  is 
inflicted  which  enhances  and  repeats  itself  in  a  geo- 
metric ratio.  So  much  pain  as  is  necessarily  implied 
in  the  constitution  of  the  world  has  this  property,  that 
it  terminates  in  the  instance — that  it  is  not  cumula- 
tive :  its  ratio  is  only  arithmetical. 

873.  What  a  world  of  bolts,  and  bars,  and  chains, 
and  terrors — what  a  weapon-bearing  and  armor-wear- 
ing world  this  would  be,  if  the  sheep  and  bullocks  in 
a  pasture,  if  the  geese  on  a  common,  if  the  poultry  in  a 
farm-yard,  were  always  regarding  the  men  and  women 
about  them  as  their  murderers !     If  the  horse  knew 
and  felt  what  he  does  not  know  or  feel,  no  horse  could 
be  put  in  harness  until  he  had  been  schooled  to  sub- 
mission by  red-hot  irons  applied  in  the  stable;  and 
every  saddle  must  be  furnished  with  a  revolver,  to  be 
used  by  'the  rider  if  his  nag  show  temper. 

874.  It  is  a  fact  full  of  meaning,  that  in  every  in- 
stance in  which  man  sees  it  good  to  exercise  the  irre- 
sponsible rights  of  absolute  property  as  to  life  or  serv- 
ice over  the  animal  orders,  Nature  has  interposed  an 
interval  between  him  and  them — in  form,  in  modes  of 

P  2 


£46  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

life,  and  in  instincts — in  body  and  in  mind — which  is 
so  wide  as  effectually  to  exclude  any  possible  mis- 
understanding, or  questionable  case  in  particular  in- 
stances. The  sheep,  the  ox,  the  horse,  the  bee — birds 
and  fishes,  as  to  all  that  are  slaughtered  and  eaten,  and 
as  to  all  that  are  reduced  to  servitude,  and  as  to  all 
that  are  domesticated,  there  is  a  great  gulf  of  Nature's 
own  making  between  them  and  man.  There  are  no 
midway  cases  that  might  be  open  to  an  argument. 

875.  Full  of  meaning  also  is  this  fact,  that  as  to 
those  possibly  questionable  instances  of  approximate 
resemblance  to  humanity,  such  as  that  of  the  ape  tribe 
in  all  its  varieties,  from  the  baboon  to  the  chimpanzee, 
there  attaches  this  conspicuous  mark — it  is  Nature's 
cautionary  brand — that  they  are  revolting  as  food,  and 
are  inapplicable  to  any  purposes  of  labor :  they  can 
neither  be  made  to  bear  burdens  nor  practice  handi- 
crafts :  apt  they  are  for  mischief,  but  unapt  for  service: 
they  are  endowed  with  too  much  wit  to  be  confided  in, 
but  they  have  not  wit  enough  to  be  trained  to  any  use- 
ful function.     It  is  as  if  Nature  had  said  to  Man,  "Be- 
ware of  bringing  humanity  under  brute  law  :  you  must 
neither  slay  for  food,  nor  treat  as  a  beast  of  burden, 
any  species  which  resembles  yourself,  even  remotely, 
in  form  and  structure."     Man  must  be  careful  to  deal 
with  his  species  on  another  ground,  and  altogether  in 
another  manner. 

876.  Incalculable  mischiefs — miseries  that  fail  not 
to  run  out  into  crimes,  and  crimes  which  must  repeat 
themselves  in  aggravated  atrocities,  would  ensue  if 
there  were  in  any  land  a  species,  nearly  bordering 
upon  humanity  and  commingled  itself  with  it,  con- 


GENERA   AND   SPECIES.  347 

cerning  which  the  question  might  be  raised  whether 
the  sacredness  of  life  and  freedom  of  service  should  be 
recognized  in  and  toward  it  or  not.  If  once,  on  the 
ground  of  an  apparent  inferiority  of  race  or  genus,  the 
rights  of  humanity  should  come  to  be  violated  toward 
such  a  race,  then  the  most  dire  social  confusions  are 
let  in  upon  a  community,  and  devastate  it  as  a  deluge. 
In  such  a  community,  or  in  a  nation  thus  cursed,  civ- 
ilization will  show  its  refinements  side  by  side  with 
the  atrocities  of  the  lowest  barbarism. 

877.  An  invasion  of  the  sacredness  of  life,  or  of  the 
individual  liberty  of  service,  or  a  violence  done  to  the 
sanctities  of  the  domestic  instincts — any  such  outrages 
as  these,  so  long  as  the  victims  are  of  unquestioned 
equality  in  bodily  and  mental  endowments  (such  as 
were  mostly  the  slaves  of  ancient  Rome),  is  indeed  a 
grievous  wrong,  but  it  is  a  wrong  that  contains  within 
itself  a  curative  tendency.     Man,  in   such  cases,  is 
seen  to  be  treating  his  brother  and  his  equal  harshly 
and  unfairly ;  and  some  day — a  day  not  in  the  extreme 
distance,  the  disputants  shall  come  into   contest  on 
even  ground,  and  the  equilibrium  of  the  social  system 
shall  be  restored.     In  such  instances  great  wrongs  are 
done  and  great  crimes  are  perpetrated  ;  but  still  Nature 
herself  has  not  been  blasphemed ;  the  Social  system 
has  been  put  far  out  of  course,  and  its  relations  are 
hurtfully  disturbed  ;  but  these  temporary  and  remedi- 
able evils  do  not  go  deep  as  a  contempt  uttered  against 
those  awful  mysteries  of  the  moral  world — a  contempt 
of  which  Nature  avenges  surely  and  without  mercy. 

878.  The  belief  that  the  several  races  of  the  human 
species  have  sprung  from  different  sources,  and  that 


348  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

some  of  them  are  more  ancient  than  others,  is  undoubt- 
edly suggested  by  a  first  view  of  the  aspect  of  man- 
kind ;  and  even  beyond  this,  such  a  supposition  de- 
rives support  from  independent  sources,  physiological, 
ethnological,  and  psychological.  The  tendency  of  those 
who  have  labored  to  solve  the  problem  on  purely  sci- 
entific grounds  had,  until  of  late,  been  toward  this 
conclusion — that  a  distinct  parentage  should  be  claim- 
ed for  four,  five,  or  perhaps  six  of  the  now  extant  hu- 
man races.  The  contrary  belief,  which  assigns  all  to 
the  one  paradisiacal  pair,  has  been  warmly  affirmed  by 
those  who  have  imagined  the  credit  of  the  Biblical  his- 
tory to  be  in  some  manner  implicated  in  the  determi- 
nation of  this  controversy. 

879.  But  of  late  a  reaction  has  had  place  in  this 
controversy,  and  the  present  tendency  is  decisively  to- 
ward the  doctrine  ol  a  unity  of  origin,  exclusive  of  any 
hypothesis  that  supposes  a  distinction  of  genus  or  spe- 
cies.    Causes,  the  operation  of  which  comes,  to  some 
extent,  under  our  eye,  are  believed  to  be  sufficient, 
when  the  lapse  of  ages  is  duly  allowed  for,  to  account 
for  even  the  most  strongly  marked  of  these  character- 
istics of  races. 

880.  So  far  as  this  problem  is  to  be  treated  on  phys- 
iological grounds,  it  stands  excluded  from  these  pages 
in  express  terms ;  so  far  (if  indeed  this  be  the  case  at 
all)  as  the  question  is  connected  with  Christian  Theol- 
ogy, it  would  of  course  stand  outside  of  an  elementary 
book  on  Mental  Philosophy.     It  may,  however,  prop- 
erly claim  this  passing  notice  when,  as  now,  we  inquire 
whether  the  upper  order  in  the  World  of  Mind  be  dis- 
tributable into  Genera  and  Species. 


GENERA  AND   SPECIES.  349 

881.  Mind,  granting  it  to  be  one  in  essence,  yet  ex- 
hibits a  difference,  distinguishing  the  brute  mind  from 
the  human  mind,  which  is  so  great,  especially  if  we 
follow  it  into  its  consequences,  and  the  distinction  is 
so  fixed  and  so  permanent,  that  it  must  be  regarded  as 
a  generic  difference  of  the  most  absolute  kind.     That 
it  is  so  has  this  further  confirmation,  that  the  two  or- 
ders do  not  approach  each  other  on  a  marginal  space 
by  any  ambiguous  species. 

882.  And  here  it  should  be  well  noted  that  instances, 
either  of  individual  degradation,  or  of  national  debase- 
ment, or  of  the  barbarism  of  tribes,  have  none  of  the 
characteristics  of  original  specific  distinctions  ;  all  are 
manifestly  the  products  of  ill  influences,  of  which  we 
may  watch  the  gradual  operation,  often  among  the  mis- 
erable outcasts  of  humanity  quite  near  to  our  homes. 

883.  If,  among  the  races  of  the  human  family,  we 
were  to  take  the  most  extreme  cases  of  intellectual  and 
moral  dissimilarity,  such  as  that  of  the  modern  Euro- 
pean, and  the  Papuan,  or  the  Bosjesmen,  it  would  not 
be  necessary  to  travel  a  mile  from  our  firesides,  dwell 
where  we  may,  to  find  individual  contrasts  fully  as 
great.     Nay,  is  it  not  so  that,  sitting  around  the  same 
table,  the  types — intellectual  and  moral — of  the  Greek 
and  of  the  barbarian,  of  the  Scythian  and  of  the  Afri- 
can, may  be  pointed  to  ?     Certainly  it  is  so  in  any 
place  wherein  are  assembled  as  many  as  a  hundred 
persons,  townsmen  and  cousins. 

884.  Whether  we  take  our  instances  from  conti- 
nents, or  from  cities,  or  from  near  neighborhoods,  we 
shall  find  it  extremely  difficult,  or  we  may  say  imprac- 
ticable, to  substantiate  any  hypothesis  of  classifica- 


350  THE   WOKLD   OF   MIND. 

tion ;  that  is  to  say,  we  shall  not  Ibe  able  to  circum- 
scribe any  number  of  individuals  with  constant  lines 
so  as  to  distribute  them  into  classes  or  species.  Any 
such  conjectural  classification  will  be  always  breaking 
down  under  our  hands,  and  melting  itself  away,  until 
every  aggregate  has  resolved  itself  into  the  individuals 

«/     oo     o 

which  compose  it. 


XXIV. 

LAUGHTER  AND   WEEPING. 

885.  IT  is  with  perfect  strictness,  in  a  scientific 
sense,  that  the  Hand  is  affirmed  to  be  the  distinction 
of  Man.  When  the  Physiologist  gives  us  this  mark 
of  humanity,  he  is  thinking,  first,  of  the  relative  posi- 
tion of  the  bones  of  the  wrist  and  of  the  metacarpus, 
and  then  of  the  action  and  counteraction  of  the  mus- 
cles which  take  their  points  of  insertion  upon  these, 
and  upon  the  ulna  and  radius,  and  especially  of  the 
flexors  and  extensors  of  the  thumb.  So  far  we  listen 
to  the  Anatomist  and  the  Physiologist ;  but  beyond 
this  we  have  to  note  the  relation  of  this  structure  of 
the  human  hand — its  bones,  muscles,  ligaments — to  the 
Mind,  of  which  the  hand  is  the  tool.  We  have  to  ren- 
der the  Anatomical  into  the  terms  of  the  Intellectual ; 
we  have  to  give  the  mental  coefficients  of  the  bony  and 
muscular  structure.  Apart  from  his  faculty  of  ab- 
straction, the  hand  of  man  would  be  an  incumbrance  ; 
deprived  of  his  hand,  the  inventive  power  could  only 
utter  itself  in  petulant  impatience,  conscious  of  its  want 
of  a  prehensive  limb  such  as  this. 


LAUGHTEK  AND   WEEPING.  351 

886.  Now,  in  relation  to  the  subjects  before  us,  we 
have  to  go  forward  nearly  on  the  same  path.     Laugh- 
ter and  Weeping  are  incidents  of  the  animal  structure, 
and,  as  such,  they  are  clearly  distinctive  of  the  human 
species:  the  Physiologist  must  give  us  his  explana- 
tion of  these  two  movements  or  agitations  of  the  tho- 
rax and  its  apparatus,  and  show  how  it  is  that  the 
diaphragm  is  affected,  and  the  muscles  of  the  chest  and 
ribs,  and  then  the  pressure  upon  the  lachrymal  sac. 
Whatever  we  learn  from  him  on  this  ground  is  wholly, 
or  very  nearly  so,  peculiar  to  the  human  organization. 
The  Laughter  and  the  Weeping  of  Man  may,  indeed, 
find  a  remote  analogy  in  some  of  the  brute  orders,  just 
as  the  human  hand  finds  a  remote  analogy  in  the  fore 
paw  of  the  ape ;  but  the  resemblance  is  not  more  than 
this. 

887.  From  the  hand,  which  is  at  once  the  symbol 
and  the  instrument  of  Thought,  we  go  up  to  that  Mind 
which  governs  and  employs  it.     And  thus,  from  the 
Laughter  and  Weeping  of  Man,  we  go  inward  to  that 
soul,  the  boundless  emotions  of  which  find  expression 
in  these  convulsive  motions. 

888.  When  the  phenomena  of  Laughter  and  Weep- 
ing are  taken  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Physiologist,  and 
are  to  be  rendered  into  the  terms  of  Mental  Philosophy, 
we  find  it  needful  to  distinguish,  as  to  each  of  them, 
the  more  simple  or  organic  from  the  more  complicated 
or  purely  mental  state  of  the  feelings  that  are  proper 
to  each.    Laughter,  especially  in  infancy  and  childhood, 
is  often  an  instinctive  convulsion,  expressive  only  of 
the  exuberant  joyousness — the  pure  consciousness  of 
felicity — the  perfect  play  and  accordance  of  all  powers 


352  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

of  body  and  mind.  Weeping,  especially  in  infancy  and 
childhood,  is  just  the  contrary  of  this  sense  of  good; 
it  is  Nature's  notice  of  some  present  pain  or  want. 

889.  But  beyond  this  elementary  kind,  as  well  of 
Laughter  as  of  Weeping,  we  must  consider  each  as 
the  expression  of  emotions  of  a  peculiar  kind,  and  of 
more  than  ordinary  intensity.     The  laughter  of  adults, 
when  it  is  not  (which  it  seldom  is,  unless  with  the  im- 
becile) an  outburst  of  animal  joyousness,  is  the  ex- 
pression of  a  SENSE  which  hitherto  has  been  but  im- 
perfectly analyzed  or  traced  to  its  elements.     That 
aspect  of  objects  seen,  or  that  apposition  of  ideas  pre- 
sented to  the  mind  by  words,  or  spontaneously  pre- 
senting itself,  which  provokes  laughter,  has  a  peculi- 
arity, marking  it  off  very  clearly  from  every  other  as- 
pect of  things  and  from  every  other  apposition  of  ideas. 
The  subject  is  one  of  the   most  obscure  within  the 
compass  of  Mental  Philosophy ;  and  because  it  is  so, 
it  could  not,  to  any  good  purpose,  be  pursued,  within 
due  limits,  in  an  elementary  book.     We  mention  it 
only  in  its  bearing  upon  a  subject  which  should  not 
be  passed  over. 

890.  The  sense  of  wit  and  humor — the  sense  of 
the  ludicrous,  is  called  into  action,  so  we  usually  say, 
by  the  sudden  aspect  or  the  flashing  thought  of  some 
extreme  contrast  or  misfitting,  the  accidental  juxtapo- 
sition of  things  that  have  no  proper  coherence — no 
principle  of  unison.     Yet  it  is  not  every  or  any  sort 
of  extreme  contrast  that  excites  laughter ;  far  from  it ; 
some  contrasts  are  purely  painful.     It  is  not  merely 
the  apposition  of  the  small  and  the  great,  nor  of  the 
valuable  and  the  worthless,  nor  of  beauty  and  deform- 


LAUGHTER  AND  WEEPING.  353 

ity,  nor  of  virtue  and  vice,  nor  of  well-being  and  mis- 
ery. Some  other  ingredient  or  adjunct  is  needed  to 
constitute  the  ridiculous — to  provoke  laughter. 

891.  There  must  be  present  in  any  such  instance 
a  moral  element  of  some  kind :  we  must  have  before 
us,  whether  actually  in  view  or  only  thought  of,  a  be- 
ing of  like  constitution  with  ourselves  (or  like  so  far 
as  the  particular  occasion  requires),  to  whom,  as  to  his 
appearance,  or  his  attire,  or  his  behavior,  there  attach- 
es some  extreme  contrariety  of  which  himself  is,  or 
pretends  to  be,  quite  unconscious.     A  mere  derange- 
ment in  the  attire  of  a  grave  and  official  person,  of 
which  himself  has  no  knowledge  or  suspicion,  is  enough 
to  provoke  the  open  or  the  smothered  laughter  of  a 
thousand  sober-minded  spectators.     The  harlequin  ex- 
hibits on  his  person  some  such  incongruity ;  and  then, 
to  give  it  force,  he  assumes  an  aspect  of  gravity,  as  if 
he  had  no  consciousness  of  the  fact  that  his  appearance 
is  absurd. '   A  peculiar  expression  of  care-worn  gravi- 
ty it  is  which  makes  the  antics  of  the  monkey  ludi- 
crous.    Wit  is  the  imputing  to  a  person  an  inconse- 
quence or  an  incongruity,  which  is  so  glozed  over  by 
an  artful  commendation  (implied  or  expressed)  that  he 
may  be  tempted  to  accept  it  unawares,  and  so  be  un- 
conscious of  the  ridicule  to  which  it  exposes  him. 

892.  Whether  these  explications  may  be  accepted 
as  true  and  sufficient  or  not  so,  this  is  certain,  that  the 
being  who  is  provoked  to  laughter  in  sight  of  the  lu- 
dicrous.must  himself  be  possessed  of  mind  enough  to 
apprehend  the  upper  as  well  as  the  lower  quality,  from 
the  contrast  of  which  the  sense  of  the  ludicrous  takes 
its  rise.     There  must  be  a  sympathy  or  a  conscious- 


354  THE   WOELD   OF   MIND. 

ness  toward  the  great,  the  grave,  the  noble,  in  him, 
whatever  may  be  the  rank  assigned  him  on  the  scale 
of  intelligence,  who  is  affected  to  laughter  by  the  sight 
of  its  juxtaposition  with  what  is  mean,  ignoble,  insig- 
nificant. The  sense  of  wit — the  sense  of  the  ludi- 
crous, is  a  consciousness,  not  of  one  element,  but  of 
two,  and  of  the  upper  one  not  less  than  of  the  lower. 

893.  It  is  on  this  ground  that  we  may  confidently 
challenge  humanity,  with  its  entire  circle  of  rights,  its 
inherent  dignity,  and  its  recoverableness,  if  it  has  fall- 
en, in  behalf  of  any  race  that  laughs. 

894.  If  this  be  granted — and  the  more  we  pursue 
the  principle  into  its  source  and  its  consequences,  the 
more  convinced  shall  we  be  of  the  validity  of  the  claim 
— -if  this  be  granted  as  to  the  joyous  side  of  humanity, 
a  parallel  claim  will,  with  still  more  readiness,  be  al- 
lowed on  the  contrary  side,  and  we  shall  be  prompt  to 
accord  the  sympathies,  and  the  rights,  and  the  dignity, 
and  the  redeeming  qualities  of  humanity  to  any  that 
weep. 

895.  Again,  we  must  take  care  to  distinguish  that 
which  is  organic  from  that  which  is  more  properly  emo- 
tional.    The  shedding  of  tears  with  sobs  is  the  char- 
acteristic of  babyhood  or  childhood  when  it  is  the  ex- 
pression of  bodily  pain  at  the  moment.     The  weeping 
of  the  adult — woman,  and  it  is  still  more  so  with  man 
— is  the  product  of  emotions,  whether  of  anger  and 
petulance,  or  of  grief;  it  may  be  disappointment,  or 
wounded  social  affections,  or  loss  of  the  loved,  or  loss 
of  love  itself.      If  laughter  relate  principally  to  the 
present  hour  or  passing  moment,  weeping,  when  it  is 
not  simply  organic,  is  retrospective  chiefly. 


LAUGHTER   AND   WEEPING.  355 

896.  Weeping,  if  it  be  of  that  kind  which  is  prop- 
erly termed  emotional,  is  of  two  kinds,  for  it  is  prompt- 
ed either  by  feelings  that  are  personal  and  seclusive, 
or  by  such  as  are  social  and  sympathetic.     Not  as  if 
distinctions  of  this  sort  were  entirely  analytic ;   yet 
they  are  sufficiently  accurate  to  be  available  for  the 
purposes  now  in  view.     Grief  or  sorrow,  the  spring 
of  which  is  mainly  or  entirely  personal,  implies  that 
ruminative  habit  of  thought  which  brings  the  individ- 
ual lot — the  individual  fortunes  and  history,  into  per- 
spective, so  as  that  it  is  contemplated  from  one  point 
of  view.     The  good  and  the  ill  of  the  personal  history 
may  give  rise  to  feelings  of  remorse,  or  of  resentment 
against  those  who  have  inflicted  injuries :  there  may 
be  the  recollection  of  shipwrecked  fortunes,  of  misused 
opportunities,  of  misjudgments,  and  of  damage  sus- 
tained by  sheer  fortuity.     Whoever  weeps  in  any  such 
manner  as  these  is  the  possessor  of  the  elements  of  all 
degrees  of  moral  culture,  and  he  may  well  vindicate 
his  claim  to  that  treatment  which  is  granted  to  be  the 
right  of  the  loftiest  samples  of  human  nature. 

897.  Weeping  at  the  impulse  of  the  domestic  in- 
stincts or  of  the  deeper  social  affections — the  cement- 
ing affections  —  gives  a  still  higher  sanction  to  the 
rights  and  dues  of  humanity.     If  the  maternal  in- 
stincts in  brute  natures  show  some  approach  to  the 
warmth  *of  human  affections,  they  do  but  exhibit,  by 
contrast,  the  far  greater  force  and  the  enduring  intens- 
ity of  the  latter. 

898.  That  which  among  all  its  elements  is  the  most 
human  in  humanity  is  its  affections — the  social  affec- 
tions; or,  to  say  all  in  a  word,  LOVE.     Take  a  look 


356  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

round  in  any  circle  that  may  be  inclusive  of  twenty 
persons.  Admiration,  and  a  willingness  to  follow  and 
to  be  taught,  goes  over  to  that  one  of  the  company 
who  is  the  most  conspicuous  for  clearness  and  force 
of  Reason,  or  for  accumulations  of  available  knowl- 
edge. But  after  this  homage  has  been  rendered  to  a 
faculty  or  a  power  which  is  bowed  to  because  it  can 
and  it  will  maintain  its  own  prerogatives,  we  turn—- 
we do  it  involuntarily — to  render  a  homage  of  far 
deeper  meaning  to  the  one,  man  or  woman,  in  whom 
the  social  affections  are  pre-eminently  developed. 
Love,  when  it  is  set  as  a  jewel  upon  a  healthy  Reason, 
gives  a  title,  which  is  never  called  in  question,  to  the 
deepest  reciprocative  regard  in  all  minds  that  come 
within  its  circle.  The  pre-eminence  of  Intellect  is  left 
to  vindicate  its  own  position  in  the  regards  of  others ; 
but  the  pre-eminence  of  Love  is  assented  to  with 
so  much  the  more  readiness — with  an  instantaneous 
promptitude — on  this  very  account,  that  it  is  not  care- 
ful to  assert  itself;  that  it  does  not  challenge  its  proper 
rights,  and  that  it  is  not  much  disquieted  even  though 
they  should  be  withheld. 

899.  All — or  all  but  the  foulest  natures — all  render 
a  willing  homage  to  the  social  affections  ;  and  so  much 
the  more  readily  do  we  all  do  so  when  the  subject  of 
them  has  come  to  be  in  a  helpless  social  position. 
The  tears  that  flow,  either  in  the  endurance  or  at  the 
sight  of  an  outrage  done  to1  the  domestic  affections, 
such  tears  burn  themselves  into  that  page  whereupon 
all  doings  on  earth  are  recorded  which  ETERNAL  JUS- 
TICE shall  hereafter  bring  to  a  reckoning.  When  we 
say  such  things  as  these,  we  do  not  trespass  further 


LAUGHTER  AND   WEEPING.  357 

upon  the  ground  of  conjecture  than  this :  we  assume 
the  fact  that  human  nature  is  embraced  "by  a  Moral 
System,  which  is  as  broad  as  heaven  itself,  and  which 
is  more  steadfast  than  suns  are  in  their  spheres,  and 
which,  at  some  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  human 
family,  shall  realize  itself,  with  unfailing  exactitude, 
in  the  destiny  of  every  inheritor  of  an  after-life. 

900.  The  faculty  of  speech  in  the  human  organiza- 
tion declares  the  social  nature  of  man,  for  it  has  no 
meaning  other  than  that  which  it  derives  from  its  re- 
lation to  this  sociality.     On  the  very  same  ground, 
these  two  organic  expressions — laughter  and  weeping 
— of  two  classes  of  emotions  are  sure  indications  of  that 
same  intention  which  places  the  individual  man  in  cor- 
respondence and  communion  with  his  fellows.    Laugh- 
ter and  weeping  are  spontaneous  utterances  of  vivid 
emotions,  which,  while  they  cement  the  social  system, 
imply  more  than  a  bare  relationship  of  mind  to  mind, 
for  they  suppose  mutual  dependence  and  obligation ; 
they  suppose  homogeneous  moral  elements,  and  a  con- 
sequent reciprocity  of  rights  and  duties. 

901.  It  is  not  possible  that  we  should  always  "laugh 
with  them  that  laugh  ;"  but  whenever  we  feel  that  we 
can  not  "rejoice  with  them  that  do  rejoice,"  undoubted- 
ly there  is  something  wrong,  either  on  their  part  or  on 
ours.     We  can  not  always  "weep  with  them  that 
weep  ;"  but  whenever  we  fail  to  sympathize  with  such, 
undoubtedly  there  is  something  wrong,  on  their  part 
or  on  ours.     On  their  part  the  sorrow  may  be  quite 
imaginary,  or  it  may  have  taken  its  rise  in  some  wrong- 
ful assumption.     But  if  the  grief  in  which  we  do  not 
sympathize  be  real  and  right,  then  this  default  of  sym- 


358  THE   WORLD    OF   MIND. 

pathy  on  our  part  must  arise  either  from  the  callous 
condition  of  the  social  affections  within  us,  or  from  the 
brutalizing  effect  of  savage  usages,  in  which  we  have 
always  been  accustomed  to  take  a  part,  and  to  look 
upon  with  apathy.  The  consequent  mischief,  when 
it  is  of  the  first-named  sort,  is  limited  always  ;  for  the 
individual  who  has  thus  been  born  out  of  the  course 
of  nature,  bringing  into  the  world  with  him  the  nerve 
and  soul  of  the  hygena,  soon  comes  to  be  outlawed  by 
the  contempt  and  dread  of  those  around  him. 

902.  When  the  default  of  sympathy  with  genuine 
griefs,  especially  with  those  griefs  that  spring  from  the 
domestic  instincts,  arises,  as  we  have  said,  from  the 
brutalizing  effect  of  barbarous  usages  in  which,  from 
childhood,  we  have  been  accustomed  to  take  part,  then, 
and  in  every  such  case,  the  "  Social  Institution"  by 
which  such  usages  are  sanctioned  is  itself  A  CRIME, 
and  it  will  be  germinative  of  crimes,  until  a  community 
so  deeply  plague-smitten  becomes  the  nuisance  of  the 
world. 


XXV. 

SUMMARY. 

903.  WE  have  affirmed  (821)  that  the  progress  and 
the  successes  of  the  two  recent  sciences — Astronomy 
and  Geology — have  served  !at  once  to  exemplify  and 
to  authenticate  certain  logical  methods,  and  to  give  us 
confidence  in  applying  these  methods  to  subjects  out- 
lying beyond  the  range  of  strict  demonstration.  We 
have  said  (823)  that  we  may  avail  ourselves  of  such 


SUMMARY.  359 

methods  safely  and  surely  ;  yet  more  than  this  might 
be  affirmed,  for  these  logical  procedures  are  not  only 
safe,  but,  as  to  a  wide  range  of  thought,  they  are  our 
only  mode  of  making  any  advance,  in  the  way  of  in- 
ferential reasoning,  beyond  the  point  where  we  have 
the  direct  evidence  of  the  senses. 

904.  The  Physical  Sciences  occupy,  and  explore, 
and  cultivate  an  area  which  might  be  spoken  of  as  an 
island  lying  midway  in  an  ocean  which,  as  to  the  hu- 
man intellect,  is  shoreless  and  fathomless.     This  terra 
cognita  embraces  just  so  much  of  the  material  universe 
as  we  become  cognizant  of  by  the  senses,  and  by  the 
most  infallible  kind  of  inference  or  induction.     When 
we  set  a  foot  forward  beyond  the  limits  of  what  is 
known  in  this  direct  manner,  and  intend  to  make  good 
an  estate — a  territory  recovered  from  the  wastes  of  the 
unknown,  we  are  at  every  step  compelled  to  trust  to 
methods  of  reasoning  which  assume  much  that  can 
never  be  made  demonstrably  certain,  but  which,  whether 
it  be  strictly  true  or  not,  gives  a  sure  support  to  our 
after-reasoning. 

905.  All  reasoning   concerning   Gravitation  —  all 
concerning  the  laws  of  light,  as  well  as  the  entire 
scheme  of  our  modern  Chemistry,  and  the  postulates 
of  magnetism  and  electricity,  together  with  what  we 
take  as  our  basis  in  Physiology — all  these  processes 
include  hypothetic  conceptions  concerning  the  atomic 
constitution  of  the  material  world  which  are  purely 
gratuitous,  and  the  absolute  truth  or  reality  of  which 
we  can  scarcely  hope  ever  to  ascertain.     Nevertheless, 
it  is  enough  if,  after  the  petitio  principii  has  been 
tacitly  allowed,  we  go  on  to  reason  in  a  strictly  infer- 


360  THE   WORLD    OF   MIND. 

ential  manner.  If  Light  be  an  undulation,  taking 
place  in  a  universally-diffused  substance  or  elastic 
gas,  then  we  may  advance  upon  our  path  with  a  steady 
step  in  demonstrating  the  laws  of  this  undulation. 
Yet  it  is  a  vast  assumption  that  has,  in  this  instance, 
been  made  at  the  outset ;  but  we  know  it  to  be  an 
assumption,  and  it  subserves  our  purpose,  although  of 
this  elastic  matter  we  have  no  direct  knowledge,  nor 
of  these  waves. 

906.  The  same  kind  of  venture  must  be  made — it 
is  not  a  less  venture,  nor  is  it  a  greater — if  we  would 
make  any  progress  in  reducing  vague,  rambling,  spon- 
taneous meditations  concerning  the  Intellectual  Sys- 
tem to  any  sort  of  order,  or  in  giving  our  thoughts  in 
this  direction  some  coherence,  and  any  thing  of  a  sci- 
entific aspect. 

907.  The  first  of  these  assumptions  needful  in  giv- 
ing a  scientific  form  to  Intellectual  Philosophy  is  that 
of  the  Reality  and  the  independent  existence  of  the 
Material  world.     We  call  this  an  assumption,  because 
to  suppose  that  it  may  be  shown  to  be  true,  or  be 
demonstrated  in  logical  style,  is  to  suppose  that  we 
have  the  power  to  recede  or  ascend  to  a  position  an- 
terior or  superior  to  our  consciousness  of  the  proper- 
ties of  matter,  so  that  we  may  look  down  upon  this 
consciousness,  and  analyze  it,  and  dispose  of  its  ele- 
ments, and  thus,  perhaps,  unfold  the  inner  constitution 
of  that  which  these  elements  may  inclose.     Nothing 
remains  for  us  in  this  case  but  the  alternative  either 
to  allow  the  reality  of  the  external  world  unproven,  or 
to  bring  into  question,  on  even  grounds,  the  reality  of 
the  World  of  Mind ;  and  then,  when  we  come  to  look 


SUMMAEY.  361 

at  the  two  hypotheses,  each  of  them  separately  un- 
demonstrable,  we  shall  find  ourselves  in  a  fit  mood 
for  admitting  the  last  absurdities  of  universal  skepti- 
cism ;  or,  rather,  we  shall  have  come  into  a  state  of 
mind  so  helpless  and  so  hopeless  that  it  may  be  called 
intellectual  paralysis,  a  morbid  affection  which  is  in- 
curable. 

908.  An  admission  of  the  reality  of  the  external — 
the  material  world— carries  with  it,  tacitly,  an  admis- 
sion of  the  reality  of  our  own  consciousness,  which  in- 
cludes the  knowledge  of  that  world.     Then  what  is 
next  needed  as  a  basis  of  Intellectual  Philosophy  is 
a  free  and  unconditional  acknowledgment  of  the  Real- 
ity of  Mind  as  an  existence  apart  from  matter,  and  not 
partaking  of  any  of  its  properties. 

909.  Care  and  caution  are  needed  on  this  ground ; 
and  more  than  care  merely,  for  we  need  a  disciplined 
faculty  of  thought.     What  we  have  to  assume  or  affirm 
is  not  the  actual  fact  of  the  separate  existence  of  Mind 
from  matter^  for  of  this  we  know  nothing ;  nor  are 
we  to  affirm  that  Mind  may  release  itself  from  its  con- 
nection with  a  material  organization,  for  this  is  a  sup- 
position to  which  we  have  no  means  of  giving  support. 

910.  What  we  have  to  affirm  is  simply  so  much  as 
our  consciousness  attests,  and  in  relation  to  which 
there  can  be  no  room  either  for  demonstration  or  for 
doubt.     I  am  conscious  of  Thought,  Feeling,  Power, 
and  of  Individuality ;  but  as  to  any  imagined  substance 
to  which  Thought,  Feeling,  Power,  Individuality  ad- 
here, and  of  which  they  are  the  products  or  the  results, 
I  have  neither  an  acquired  knowledge  of  it,  nor  any 
inward  indication  of  it  as  a  fact. 

Q 


362  THE  WORLD   OF  MIND. 

911.  Nevertheless  there  may  be  such  a  substance, 
albeit  I  have  no  knowledge  of  it,  direct  or  indirect; 
and  this  substance  may  possess  solid  extension:   it 
may  be  an  atom,  indivisible,  insoluble,  and  infinitely 
small,  or  it  may  be  an  ether  or  gas  infinitely  rare. 
But  as  to  any  suppositions  of  this  sort,  though  they 
may  seem  to  administer  some  ease  to  the  imagination 
in  its  attempts  to  think  of  Mind  apart  from  the  animal 
structure,  they  can  give  us  no  aid  whatever  in  our  en- 
deavors to  bring  Intellectual  Philosophy  into  form. 
On  the  contrary,  suppositions  of  this  class  operate  il- 
lusively, and  they  foster  that  tendency  to  philosophize 
upon  the  phenomena  of  Mind  in  the  terms  and  style 
of  Physical  Science — a  practice  which  has  shed  so 
much  confusion  upon  this  region  of  thought.     If  Mind 
be  an   ether,  very  rare  and  highly  elastic,  then,  no 
doubt,  it  may  have  its  vibrations,  or  its  undulations, 
or  its  tremors,  or  its  affinities  with  other  rare  ethers 
or  gases,  and  so  forth.     But  let  any  one  who  is  ac- 
customed to  sustained  thought  ask  himself  whether  he 
can  attach  any  meaning  whatever,  less  or  more,  clear 
or  obscure,  to  the  terms  and  phrases  of  Physical  Sci- 
ence, and  the  modes  of  reasoning  concerning  the  prop- 
erties of  Matter  when  they  are  applied  to  his  own  Con- 
sciousness of  Thought,  Feeling,  Power,  Individuality. 

912.  We  shall  have  set  a  good  foot  forward  on  solid 
ground — we  shall  have  made  an  acquisition  worth  the 
labor  it  has  cost  us  when  we  have  brought  ourselves 
to  acquiesce  fully  and  freely  in  the  belief  that  Mind 
and  Matter  are  both  of  them  EEAL  EXISTENCES,  not 
one  the  product  of  the  other,  but  each  absolute  in  its 
own  manner.     If  we  assent  to  this  belief — knowing  it 


SUMMARY.  363 

to  be  a  Belief,  not  a  proposition  provable — then  we 
shall  find  that  it  serves  us  well  as  an  hypothesis  with 
which  all  facts,  as  well  of  physical  as  of  intellectual 
and  moral  philosophy,  perfectly  consist;  and  then, 
moreover,  we  shall  feel  ourselves  relieved  from  the 
bootless  labor  of  attempting  to  open  up  the  mysteries 
of  Mind  by  aid  of  the  laws  of  matter,  or  of  theorizing 
on  the  connection  between  the  two  worlds. 

913.  We  may  take  to  ourselves  this  Belief  with  a 
feeling  of  comfort,  and  may  then  look  abroad  upon  this 
vast  scheme  of  twofold  existence — the  two  worlds  of 
MATTER  and  of  MIND — with  a  sort  of  expanded  or 
emancipated  consciousness  toward  the  latter,  that  is 
to  say,  the  universe  of  Thought,  Feeling,  Power,  em- 
bracing the  innumerable  company  of  those  who  are 
individually  possessed  of  sentient  and  causative  ex- 
istence. Many  questions,  deep,  perplexing,  intermin- 
able, and  unproductive  also,  start  up,  and  would  dis- 
turb our  meditations  when  this  boundless  field  is  be- 
fore us.  It  might  be  asked,  Whence  and  when  do 
individual  minds  come  up  in  the  development  of  the 
great  scheme  ot  organic  animal  life  ?  Are  minds  an- 
terior to  organization?  Are  they  posterior  to  it? 
May  individual  consciousness  stand  when  animal  or- 
ganization falls?  In  many  forms  might  questions 
and  surmises  of  this  sort  be  fashioned  ;  but  they  have 
the  loose  quality  of  meditations  /  they  possess  no  sci- 
entific coherence ;  they  lie  far  outside  the  range  of 
human  observation  or  Reason.  As  to  the  bearing  of 
these,  or  of  any  analogous  speculations  upon  questions 
of  Morality  or  Theology,  nothing  can  be  more  unwise 
than  to  entangle  the  firm  principles  either  of  morals 


364  THE   WORLD    OP   MIND. 

or  of  religious  belief  with  films  of  conjecture  such  as 
these. 

914.  A  full,  free,  and  unexceptive  acceptance  of  this 
FIRST  POSTULATE  of  Intellectual  Philosophy,  namely, 
the  absolute  Reality  of  Mind  apart  from  or  irrespective 
of  Matter,  clears  the  way  for  an  admission  of  its  SEC- 
OND POSTULATE,  namely,  the  Causative  Property  of 
Mind ;  the  term  causative  understood  in  a  sense  which 
at  once  distinguishes  Mind  from  Matter,  and  which  af- 
firms for  Mind  an  unconditioned  force  as  its  primary 
rudiment. 

915.  This  second  postulate  must,  like  the  first,  be 
conceded  as  a  BELIEF,  and  not  as  if  it  were,  along 
with  a  multitude  of  propositions,  sustained  by  a  mass 
of  evidence  which  yet  falls  short  of  demonstrative  cer- 
tainty, but  because  itself  stands  anterior  to  every  log- 
ical process :  it  is  a  Belief  which,  if  we  decline  to  ac- 
cept it,  we  are  deprived  not  only  of  all  belief,  but  of 
the  very  means  of  attaining  any. 

916.  In  assenting  to  the  First  of  these  two  Postu- 
lates, we  simply  abstain  from  affirming  or  denying 
any  thing  on  ground  where  we  have  no  knowledge. 
Thought  and  Feeling  are  utterly  unlike  any  of  the 
properties  of  Matter  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  and 
we  rest  upon  this  unlikeness  as  reason  enough  for  not 
attempting  to  apply  to  Thought  and  Feeling  the  terms 
and  methods  of  Physical  Science.     But  now,  as  to  our 
Second  Postulate,  we  are  safe  in  advancing  a  step  be- 
yond any  such  negative  affirmation  or  any  such  mere 
plea  of  ignorance.     When  we  affirm  the  unconditioned 
Causative  prerogative  of  Mind,  and  its  absolute  liberty 
as  distinguished  from  physical  causation  of  every  sort, 


SUMMARY.  365 

we  do  but  put  into  the  form  of  a  proposition  a  princi- 
pal element  of  Consciousness :  we  allege  what  we 
should  never  have  thought  of  formally  affirming,  as  if 
it  might  be  denied  or  questioned,  if  we  had  not  found 
ourselves  encountered,  in  schools  and  in  books,  by  the 
pedantic  paradox  which  tells  us  that  any  such  causa- 
tive liberty  is  inconceivable  and  impossible. 

917.  The  subsidiary  attestations  which  may  be  lis- 
tened to,  if  we  would  arm  ourselves  against  sophistries 
which  we  can  not  refute,  are  such  as  these.     This  Be- 
lief of  the  Causative  Property  of  Mind,  which  is  the 
primary  dictate  of  consciousness,  consists   perfectly 
with  each  of  those  principal  facts  of  human  nature 
which,  on  the  contrary  supposition,  are  inexplicable 
riddles. 

918.  This  same  belief  comports  well,  to  say  no  more, 
with  the  hypothesis  of  a  Moral  System  and  of  a  scheme 
of  government  founded  upon  Declaratory  Law,  not 
taking  effect  as  a  latent  or  physical  law ;  and  when 
we  affirm  this  as  to  a  scheme  of  Moral  Government, 
we  affirm  a  portion  only  of  a  Great  Truth — that  Truth, 
namely,  apart  from  a  recognition  of  which  there  can  be 
no  Theology  for  Man,  or  none  of  which  he  may  avail 
himself  as  the  foundation  of  the  religious  life. 

919.  Once  and  again  (376  and  705)  we  have  affirm- 
ed that  in  any  instance,  if  a  Belief  is  found  to  work 
harmoniously  with  the  functions  of  human  nature,  such 
an  accordance  may  safely  be  taken  as  an  indication,  or, 
indeed,  as  proof  of  its  reality  ;  we  may  accept  it  as  a 
truth,  and  need  not  suspect  it  as  an  illusion.     Now  on 
this  ground  we  rest  our  THIKD  POSTULATE  called  for 
in  constructing  an  Intellectual  Philosophy,  namely, 


366  THE   WORLD   OP  MIND. 

that  in  the  original  structure  of  the  Mind  there  is 
nothing  fallacious — nothing  contrary  to  the  reality  of 
things ;  nothing  that  is  spurious  or  factitious,  and 
which,  when  we  come  to  be  better  informed,  we  shall 
reject  or  denounce  as  a  disguise,  of  which  the  human 
race,  or  the  uninstructed  many,  is  doomed  to  be  always 
the  dupe  and  victim. 

920.  It  might  seem  superfluous  to  make  a  formal 
demand  of  this  kind  on  behalf  of  the  Creative  Wis- 
dom, and  yet,  in  fact,  several  schemes  of  Philosophy, 
ancient  and  modern,  have  implied  the  existence  of  some 
such  delusion  as  attaching  to  the  original  framework 
of  human  nature. 

921.  Take  the  instance  of  the  momentary  sympa- 
thies, and  of  those  enduring  affections  which  cement 
the  social  system.     They  are  real,  or,  we  should  say, 
substantial   as    distinguished  from  animal  instincts, 
which  rise  and  disappear  with  the  presence  and  re- 
moval of  their  immediate  objects :  they  are  real  as  dis- 
tinguished from  all  forms  and  disguises  of  the  self-in- 
tending instincts  and  emotions,  for  they  often  impel 
the  subject  of  them  to  courses  of  conduct  that  are  di- 
rectly opposed  to  the  promptings  of  those  instincts. 
But  more  than  this,  these  sympathies  and  these  pro- 
found affections  are  REAL,  inasmuch  as  they  connect 
Man  with  that  universal  scheme  of  Moral  Government, 
his  relation  to  which  is  vouched  for  by  the  firmest  and 
the  most  enduring  of  his  convictions. 

922.  We  have  to  make  our  choice  between  two  in- 
compatible systems  of  Philosophy,  or  two  modes  of 
interpreting  human  nature.     According  to  one  of  these 
systems,  wherever  there  is  the  most  feeling,  the  most 


SUMMAEY.  367 

of  sympathy  (or  the  semblance  of  it),  the  greatest  in- 
tensity of  affection,  or  of  what  is  imagined  to  be  affec- 
tion, there — and  precisely  in  proportion  to  the  warmth 
and  the  force  of  the  emotion,  is  there  the  largest  amount 
of  artificial  sentiment  and  of  self-deception.  Accord- 
ing to  this  Philosophy,  he  who  imagines  that  he  loves, 
not  himself,  but  another,  is,  just  so  far  as  he  indulges 
such  an  illusion,  the  victim  of  a  conventional  preju- 
dice, which  it  is  the  privilege  of  the  philosopher  to  de- 
spise. 

923.  But  there  is  another  scheme  of  human  nature, 
and  there  is  a  more  Positive  Philosophy ;  and  accord- 
ing to  this  system,  we  take  it  as  an  axiom  that,  the 
more  Feeling,  so  much  the  more  Ideality  in  every  case  ; 
the  higher  the  intensity  of  the  benevolent  emotions,  so 
much  the  nearer  approach  is  human  nature  making  to 
the  great  world  of  Love  and  Order.     According  to  this 
Philosophy,  the  most  false  of  all  the  false  things  on 
earth  is  a  pure  selfishness ;  the  greatest  of  all  delu- 
sions, as  well  as  the  most  fatal  in  its  consequences,  is 
that  of  the  human  being  who  makes  himself  his  cen- 
tre, and  his  individual  well-being  his  end. 

924.  What  is  here  affirmed  concerning  the  Sympa- 
thies, the  Emotions,  the  Affections,  may  be  affirmed 
also  concerning  the  Tastes,  and  the  Sense  of  the  Beau- 
tiful and  Sublime.     There  is  a  popular  philosophy 
which  resolves  these  Tastes  into  a  complexity  of  asso- 
ciations, as  if  they  sprang  up  out  of  nothing,  and  came 
to  be  what  they  are  by  endlessly  multiplied  reverbera- 
tions.    It  is  as  if  we  were  to  affirm  that  Daylight  is 
the  product  of  reflections  from  whited  walls,  and  any 
other  light-colored  surfaces — chalk-hills,  clouds,  and  so 


368  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

forth,  instead  of  accepting  the  hypothesis  that  it  reach- 
es Earth  direct  from  the  Sun.  We  challenge  the  sense 
of  the  Beautiful  and  the  Sublime  in  this  our  Positive 
Philosophy  as  a  faculty  of  the  Human  Mind,  and  which, 
while  it  is  the  source  of  inestimable  enjoyments  during 
our  passage  over  this  present  stage,  is  indication  of  our 
relationship  to  a  stage  of  things  brighter  and  fairer 
than  this. 

925.  When  we  have  conceded  the  above-named  Pos- 
tulates of  a  Positive  Intellectual  Philosophy,  we  shall 
scarcely  hesitate  to  concede  that  next  demand  of  the 
same  great  principle,  which  is  needed  as  the  basis  of  a 
true  Moral  Philosophy,  namely,  this,  that  the  Moral 
Sense  is  not  a  factitious  conventional  impulse,  variable 
among  the  several  races  of  the  human  family,  and  which 
possesses  no  constant  authority,  but  that  it  is  a  faculty 
of  human  nature,  and  a  sure  indication  of  the  relation 
of  the  Human  Family  to  a  system  of  universal  and 
immutable  Government. 

926.  But  these  terms  can  have  no  meaning  if  they 
be  taken  apart  from  their  implicit  theological  sense. 
In  other  words,  a  Philosophy  of  Human  Nature  can 
have  no  coherence  until  it  embraces  the  First  Princi- 
ples of  a  True  Theology,  and  by  this  we  can  intend 
nothing  else  than  a  Christian  Theology. 

927.  Thus  far  we  are  entitled  to  go:  we  include 
nothing  that  is  probable  only,  or  that  has  the  unfixed 
character  of  an  excursion  upon  the  fields  of  conjecture. 
Yet  how  easy  would  it  be  thus  to  pass  beyond  our 
strict  bounds !     The  very  title  of  this  volume  might 
seem  to  convey  an  intention  to  attempt  the  unknown 
on  the  field  of  worlds  remote  from  this.     There  is,  in 


SUMMARY.  369 

fact,  a  warrantable  range  of  meditative  conjecture — 
there  is  ground  for  theoretic  speculation  as  to  orders 
of  beings  or  modes  of  existence  other  than  those  which 
are  limited  by  the  conditions  of  the  present  animal  or- 
ganization. The  very  structure  of  the  material  uni- 
verse seems  to  speak  of  modes  of  life — a  lower  and  an 
upper ;  an  organization  adapted  to  the  alternations 
and  the  variableness  of  planetary  temperature — light 
and  heat ;  and  an  organization  adapted  to  the  asonian 
stability — the  invariable  day  and  summer  of  the  solar 
surface. 

928.  From  all  such  speculations,  and  from  others 
which  it  would  be  easy  to  indicate,  we  turn  aside,  and 
insist  upon  such  things  only  as  may  claim  to  be  re- 
garded as  proper  inferences  from  unquestioned  facts. 
Resting  upon  the  certainty  of  those  methods  of  reason- 
ing which  lately  have  carried  the  human  reason  out- 
ward toward  the  infinite  of  Space  and  Duration,  and 
have  given  it  a  firm  lodgment  in  the  very  midst  of  the 
unknown,  we  have  said  (822)  that  we  may  safely  rea- 
son onward  beyond  the  range  of  immediate  knowledge 
when  we  take  up  any  one  of  the  constituent  principles 
of  human  nature,  and  follow  it  out  to  its  consequences, 
assuming  only  this  axiom,  that  Human  Nature  is  not, 
in  its  very  structure,  a  fallacy  or  an  illusion. 

929.  The  consciousness  of  Power  as  the  first  rudi- 
ment <of  Mind,  and  of  Intelligence  as  the  guide  of  its 
exercise — the  consciousness  of  fitness  and  order,  and 
the  love  and  pursuit  of  good — these  intuitions,  apart 
from  any  logical  processes,  give  us  the  conception  of 
Supreme  and  unrestricted  Power,  and  of  Absolute  In- 
telligence, and  of  Sovereign  Goodness.     If  we  could 

Q2 


370  THE   WOULD   OF   MIND. 

need  proof  that  this  inference  is  included  in  the  frame- 
work of  human  nature,  we  should  incline  to  appeal  not 
so  much  to  the  universality  and  constancy  of  the  the- 
ologic  belief,  as  to  the  laboriousness  and  the  ingenuity 
of  the  endeavors  that,  from  age  to  age,  have  been  made 
by  a  few  sophisticated  minds  to  make  the  atheistic  par- 
adox tolerable  to  human  reason. 

930.  Yet  further.     It  is  true  as  to  the  deeper  and 
the  more  intense  affections — it  is  true  as  to  human  love 
and  hatred — it  is  true  in  what  is  tender  and  in  what 
is  cruel — it  is  true  as  to  human  purposes  and  ambi- 
tion— as  to  its  projects  and  ends — it  is  true  in  hopes 
and  in  fears — it  is  true  in  whatever  is  generous,  in 
whatever  is  the  most  dire,  that  these  developments  of 
human  nature,  as  well  intellectual  as  emotional,  are 
never  commensurate  either  with  the  immediate  occa- 
sion or  with  the  persons,  the  transactions,  the  incidents 
of  the  place,  the  hour,  or  the  day.     These  evolutions 
of  the  human  mind  and  soul  are  most  often  greatly  out 
of  proportion  to  the  things  to  which  they  seem  to  re- 
late; and  especially  true  it  is  that  the  deepest  affec- 
tions are  regardless  of  Space  and  Time :  in  the  purest 
Love  there  is  a  large  ingredient  of  the  infinite. 

931.  Again,  further  forward  we  may  safely  go.    More 
profound  than  even  his  affections,  and  more  far-looking 
than  his  ambition,  is  that  Moral  Sense  before  which, 
when  it  wakes  itself  up,  Man  bows  and  quails,  and 
confesses  that  he  stands  accountable  to  ONE  greater 
than  himself. 

932.  An  inference,  then,  which  is  not  to  be  rejected 
unless  we  abandon  the  very  ground  upon  which  any 
and  all  reasoning  must  rest,  is, this :  that  whereas  Mind, 


SUMMARY.  371 

in  the  animal  orders  around  us,  is,  with  absolute  pre- 
cision, related  to  the  immediate  occasions  of  animal 
life — Mind,  in  the  human  family,  is  not  in  any  such 
manner  related  to  the  spot,  and  the  hour,  or  the  occa- 
sion, but  is  so  constructed  as  to  relate  itself  spontane- 
ously to  a  remote  futurity  and  to  an  unknown  stage 
of  existence. 

933.  When  the  world  of  Mind,  as  exhibited  on  the 
great  stage  of  human  affairs,  is  in  view,  and  when  the 
discouraging  fact  is  before  us  of  the  very  partial  and 
exceptive  development  of  the  higher  faculties  of  hu- 
man nature,  we  find  the  need  of  an  explicative  princi- 
ple such  as  has  already  been  adverted  to  (452,  and  in 
Section  XIII.).     The  human  Mind  contains  no  Law 
of  Development  taking  effect  as  a  constant  physical 
law.     Development  of  the  faculties,  intellectual  and 
social,  is,  in  every  individual  man,  and  in  nations  and 
races,  contingent  upon  the  presence  and  application  of 
some  exciting  cause  from  without. 

934.  At  a  first  glance  of  the  subject,  the  very  con- 
trary of  this  might  seem  to  be  what  we  ought  to  look 
for.     When  we  affirm,  as  we  do,  on  behalf  of  the  hu- 
man Mind,  and  affirm  it  to  be  its  distinction,  as  com- 
pared with  the  animal  orders,  that  it  possesses  an  in- 
herent Causative  Power — a  spring  from  within,  which 
sets  it  forward,  or  which  may  set  it  forward  upon  a 
course  of  boundless  advancement,  how  shall  we  un- 
derstand the  fact  that  development  and  progress  are 
conditional  and  exceptive  ? 

935.  The  expansion  of  the  Human  Mind  does  not 
take  place  uniformly  and  universally  for  this  very  rea- 
son: that  a  Causative  Power  having  been  conferred 


372  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

upon  Man — and  upon  him  alone,  in  the  fullest  sense, 
among  the  animal  orders — no  other  provision  has  been 
made  in  his  constitution  for  securing  the  development 
of  his  faculties.  This  inherent  force  is  amply  sufficient 
for  this  purpose,  if  only  it  be  put  in  movement  from 
without.  An  admirable  mechanism  is  before  us,  but 
it  is  at  rest,  and  it  will  forever  remain  at  rest  unless  a 
finger — a  force  foreign  to  itself,  give  the  start  to  the 
pendulum. 

936.  The  infant  man  is  not  only  helpless  as  an  an- 
imal, and  absolutely  dependent  upon  others  for  mere 
life — and  he  is  so  through  months  and  years,  but  his 
Mind  also  must  be  nursed  and  evoked,  or,  if  not,  he 
will  live  and  die  in  a  condition  far  less  desirable  than 
is  that  of  the  orders  around  him.     The  fate  of  the  in- 
dividual Man  truly  symbolizes  the  history  or  the  fate 
of  nations  and  races.     A  tribe — a  race,  marked  as  the 
same  from  age  to  age  by  its  physical  characteristics, 
occupies  or  roams  about  upon  its  unfurrowed  allotment 
of  territory  through  uncounted  centuries.     It  does  so 
until  the  day  of  awakening  from  without  dawns  upon 
it ;  or,  if  no  such  day  dawns,  the  race  becomes  extinct, 
or  it  gives  room  to  another  that  itself  has  received  the 
quickening  visitation  from  a  higher  source. 

937.  It  is  not  then  a  paradox  to  affirm  that  that 
moral  and  intellectual  degradation — that  state  of  per- 
dition in  which  we  often  find  Man  individually,  or  na- 
tions— is  the  very  ground  upon  which  we  rest  our  hope 
of  being  able  to  call  him  or  it  up  to  a  higher  place.    It 
is  the  fallen  who  may  rise.     Barbarism  is  the  condi- 
tion of  tribes  that  either  have  wanted  the  initial  move- 
ment of  civilization,  or  who,  having  once,  in  some  re- 


SUMMARY.  373 

mote  age,  possessed  it,  have  lost  it  under  pressure  of 
material  destitution  or  sudden  catastrophes. 

938.  But  is  the  human  family,  as  one,  destined  to 
advance  or  to  recede  on  the  road  of  moral  and  intel- 
lectual development  ?     A  question,  this,  of  great  com- 
pass, and  not,  perhaps,  of  so  easy  solution  on  the  fa- 
vorable side  as  at  the  moment  we  may  be  apt  to  imag- 
ine.   The  probabilities  on  the  one  side,  and  those  pos- 
sible mischances  on  the  other,  which  throw  the  shadow 
of  a  cloud  upon  the  bright  field  of  hope — these  grounds 
of  anticipation — embrace  facts  and  reasonings,  so  many 
and  so  diverse,  that  scarcely  any  thing  touching  the 
past  and  the  present  condition  of  nations  would  be 
left  out  of  the  account. 

939.  From  so  vast  an  argument  as  this  we  hold  off; 
but  it  belongs  to  our  theme,  in  this  volume,  to  advert, 
in  its  closing  pages,  to  a  single  element  of  the  general 
subject     An  argument  concerning  the  probable  des- 
tiny of  the  human  family,  vast  and  various  as  it  is,  yet 
converges  toward  a  centre,  and  it  offers  itself  to  our 
view  as  if  the  materials  were  compacted  around  a  nu- 
cleus.    In  attempting  to  find  this  central  point,  we 
may  at  once  put  out  of  view  all  calculation  as  to  the 
possible  advances  of  partially  civilized  nations ;  for  if 
indeed  these,  or  any  of  them,  shall  at  length  be  brought 
to  occupy  a  higher  condition  than  they  have  filled  for 
many  ages,  such  an  event  must  be  regarded  as  only  a 
bright  possibility  on  the  remote  horizon  of  the  world's 
history. 

940.  In  like  manner,  and  without  giving  way  to 
any  ungenerous  prejudices,  we  may  exclude  from  our 
calculations  concerning  the  progress  of  nations  those 


374  THE   WORLD   OF   MIND. 

among  them  that,  after  centuries  of  probation,  near  to 
the  broad  daylight  of  intellectual,  and  moral,  and  po- 
litical advancement,  still  yield  themselves  inertly  to 
superstitions  and  to  despotisms  which  cramp  and  crush 
the  soul,  and  which  are  now  visibly  mantling  upon  the 
spirit  of  the  people,  and  bringing  upon  them  a  slumber 
of  sensuous  acquiescence  in  the  fate  which  they  can 
look  at  with  apathy. 

941.  In  like  manner,  and  apart  from  the  influence 
of  controversial  prejudices,  we  may  put  out  of  view,  on 
this  ground,  any  communities,  if  any  such  there  are, 
whose  usages  and  whose  institutions,  the  horrid  relics 
of  ages  of  barbarism  and  ferocity,  sin  flagrantly  against 
humanity,  and  which,  if  they  are  still  fondly  clinging 
to  them,  brutalize  even  the  better  spirits  among  the 
people.     Nature  seals  the  doom  of  communities  that 
set  at  defiance  the  primary  instincts  of  the  moral  econ- 
omy.     Decay,  not  advancement,  is  their  inevitable 
future. 

942.  The  conservation  of  the  bright  destinies  of  the 
human  family  must  be  supposed  to  have  been  com- 
mitted to  those  nations  or  races  that,  beyond  others, 
are  the  careful  and  courageous  guardians  of  Liberty, 
Civil  and  Religious ;  nations  that,  more  than  others, 
are  alive  to  the  claims  of  justice  and  of  mercy ;  and  it 
is  the  same  people  that  will  be,  although  the  faulty, 
yet  the  firm  adherents  of  the  only  Truth,  the  Chris- 
tian system.  ( 

943.  Thus,  then,  our  argument  narrows  its  ground. 
We  may,  however,  still  find  our  way  further  in  toward 
a  central  point.    But  here  it  should  be  understood  that 
a  centre  may  be  such  theoretically-)  and  yet  it  may  not 


SUMMARY.  375 

be  the  actual  focus  of  light,  heat,  and  force  in  the  so- 
cial system.  So  it  is  in  the  instance  before  us.  The 
actual  focus  of  light,  heat,  and  force  within  a  free,  a 
cultured,  and  a  Christianized  community,  the  very 
core  of  its  life  of  thought  and  feeling,  will  be  found 
many  degrees  remote  from  what  we  should  call  its 
theoretic  centre.  The  theoretic  centre  of  the  national 
mind,  in  a  country  such  as  we  are  just  now  imagining, 
is  the  educated  intellectuality  of  the  people,  or  its  Phil- 
osophic Creed — its  holding  on  the  ground  of  Abstract 
Principles.  There  is  reason  in  the  question  concern- 
ing a  People  whose  futurity  we  might  be  wishing  to 
divine :  What  is  its  tendency,  and  its  mode  of  think- 
ing upon  the  Primary  Problems  of  the  Higher  Phi- 
losophy ? 

944.  In  the  earliest  pages  of  this  volume  the  writer 
was  careful  to  exempt  himself  from  the  imputation  of 
attaching  any  exaggerated  importance,  in  a  practical 
sense,  to  his  subject,  Mental  Philosophy.     The  world 
is  ruled  by  forces  that  are  far  more  substantial  than 
are  those  of  Intellectual  Science.     Nevertheless,  In- 
tellectual Science  must  be  allowed  to  have  a  real  value 
of  its  own,  and  it  would  be  a  serious  error  to  disallow 
its   claims  as  a  main  element  in  education.     These 
claims  rise  in  importance  when  it  appears  that  errors 
of  malignant  quality  are  rioting  around  us,  and  that 
they  do,  so  in  default  of  that  training  of  which  a  gen- 
uine Philosophy  should  be  the  guide  and  the  impulse. 

945.  Allowing,  then,  to  Intellectual  Philosophy  a 
place  of  real,  though  not  paramount  importance  in  its 
bearing  upon  the  advancement  of  a  cultured  people, 
and  assigning  to  it  its  due  position  of  honor  as  the 


376  THE   WORLD   OF  MIND. 

theoretic  centre  of  the  national  mind,  there  is  reason 
enough  for  our  wishing  to  see  this  branch  of  learning 
receiving  improvements,  and  especially  for  desiring 
that  its  doctrines  may  be  brought  into  conformity  with 
Truths  that  are  more  sure  than  its  own  axioms. 

946.  But  this  we  may  regard  as  certain,  that  while 
the  influence  of  Intellectual  Philosophy  upon  national 
progress  may  never  show  itself  to  be  much  more  than 
what  is  just  appreciable,  the  reactive  influence  of  na- 
tional progress  upon  Intellectual  Philosophy  will  not 
fail  to  be  beneficial  in  a  very  marked  and  decisive 
manner.     Those,  therefore,  who  are  occupied  in  this 
department  of  labor  may  take  the  comfort  of  believing 
that,  although  they  ought  not  to  aspire  to  mend  the 
world  with  their  Philosophy,  the  world  itself,  if  it  be 
in  course  of  improvement,  will,  at  each  stage  of  its  ad- 
vancement, assuredly  amend  their  Philosophy. 

947.  The  intellectual,  the  moral,  the  political  (or 
economic)  advancement  of  a  nation,  inclusive  always 
of  the  steadiness  of  its  adherence  to  Christianity,  and 
its  practice  of  the  Christian  virtues,  will  always  be 
bringing  before  the  popular  mind  some  object  of  the 
highest  moment  and  of  the  most  urgent  necessity  re- 
lating to  the  welfare  of  the  masses  of  the  people.    The 
energies  of  leading  minds,  borne  forward  by  the  force 
of  practical  good  sense,  will  find,  as  if  instinctively, 
the  solid  ground  of  truth  in  morals  and  in  social  sci- 
ence.   There  will  be  a  diffused  right  reason  prevailing 
throughout  the  educated  classes  which  will  effectively 
discourage  and  exclude  vague  and  monstrous  specula- 
tions concerning  the  first  principles  of  human  knowl- 
edge.    If  at  this  moment  those  spurious  philosophies 


SUMMARY.  377 

were  to  be  named  which,  in  times  past  and  lately,  have 
seemed  to  threaten  morals  and  Religion,  and  to  throw 
us  (as  to  speculative  belief)  into  the  abysses  of  athe- 
ism or  universal  doubt,  it  might  safely  be  affirmed,  as 
to  each  of  them  in  its  turn,  that,  though  it  should 
never  meet  its  overthrow  in  halls  of  learning,  it  must 
evaporate  as  a  mist  on  the  walks  of  life,  if  only  men 
are  moving  forward  under  the  guidance  of  those  same 
unchangeable  principles. 

948.  Freed  from  paradox  and  unfathomable  mysti- 
fications, and  brought  up  from  its  metaphysic  depths, 
and  pursued  and  taught  in  the  neighborhood  of  those 
great  movements  which  must  attend  the  progress  of 
men  in  society,  then,  and  while  it  is  laid  open  to  in- 
fluences of  this  salubrious  order,  the  Philosophy  of 
Mind  shall  perhaps  win  for  itself  a  place  much  nearer 
than  at  present  it  occupies  to  the  focus  of  light,  heat, 
life,  and  power  in  the  social  system. 


378  THE  WORLD  OF  MIND. 


NOTE. 

AT  the  end  of  the  Ninth  Section  there  occurs  a  note 
in  which  I  have  expressed  the  intention  of  bringing 
into  a  Supplementary  Section  some  facts  of  a  mixed 
kind,  physiological  and  psychological,  illustrative  of 
what  is  there  affirmed  concerning  the  development  of 
mind  in  the  animal  orders  around  us ;  but  to  be  of 
much  avail  in  support  of  the  general  argument,  such 
illustrations  must  be  much  more  copiously  adduced 
than  the  limits  of  this  volume  will  now  admit.  In 
truth,  subjects  of  this  class  would  best  be  treated  by 
themselves,  nearly  allied  as  they  are  to  those  which 
are  strictly  proper  to  Animal  Physiology;  for  when 
they  are  associated  with  what  professes  to  belong  to 
Mental  Science,  the  risk  is  great  that  a  confusion  will 
take  place  in  the  reader's  mind,  and  he  will  find  him- 
self insensibly  drifting  away  from  that  which  is  pure- 
ly intellectual  toward  that  which  is  organic  and  phys- 
ical ;  yet  to  preserve  inviolate  the  distinction  between 
the  two  departments  should  be  the  earnest  endeavor 
of  those  who  undertake  to  write  and  teach  on  either 
side,  and  especially  so  on  the  side  of  the  Philosophy 
of  Mind. 


THE   END. 


LOSSING'S  PICTORIAL  FIELD-BOOK 

Of  the  Revolution ;  or,  Illustrations,  by  Pen  and  Pencil,  of  the  His- 
tory, Biography,  Scenery,  Relics,  and  Traditions  of  the  War 
for  Independence.  2  vols.  Royal  8vo,  Muslin,  $8  00;  Sheep, 
$9  00;  Half  Calf,  $10  00;  Full  Morocco,  $15  00. 

A  new  and  carefully  revised  edition  of  this  magnificent  work  is  just  completed 
in  two  imperial  octavo  volumes  of  equal  size,  containing  1500  pages  and  1100  en- 
gravings. As  the  plan,  scope,  and  beauty  of  the  work  were  originally  developed, 
eminent  literary  men,  and  the  leading  presses  of  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain,  pronounced  it  one  of  the  nfost  valuable  historical  productions  ever  issued. 

The  preparation  of  this  work  occupied  the  author  more  than  four  years,  during 
which  he  traveled  nearly  ten  thousand  miles  in  order  to  visit  the  prominent  scenes 
of  revolutionary  history,  gather  up  local  traditions,  and  explore  records  and  his- 
tories. In  the  use  of  his  pencil  he  was  governed  by  the  determination  to  withhold 
nothing  of  importance  or  interest.  Being  himself  both  artist  and  writer,  he  has 
been  able  to  combine  the  materials  he  had  collected  in  both  departments  into  a 
work  possessing  perfect  unity  of  purpose  and  execution. 

The  object  of  the  author  in  arranging  his  plan  was  to  reproduce  the  history  of 
the  American  Revolution  in  such  an  attractive  manner,  as  to  entice  the  youth  of 
his  country  to  read  the  wonderful  story,  study  its  philosophy  and  teachings,  and 
to  become  familiar  with  the  founders  of  our  Republic  and  the  value  of  their  labors. 
In  this  he  has  been  eminently  successful ;  for  the  young  read  the  pages  of  tha 
'*  Field-Book"  with  the  same  avidity  as  those  of  a  romance ;  while  the  abundant 
stores  of  information,  and  the  careful  manner  in  which  it  has  been  arranged  and 
set  forth,  render  it  no  less  attractive  to  the  general  reader  and  the  ripe  scholar  of 
more  mature  years. 

Explanatory  notes  are  profusely  given  upon  every  page  in  the  volume,  and  also 
a  brief  biographical  sketch  of  every  man  distinguished  in  the  events  of  the  Revo, 
lution,  the  history  of  whose  life  is  known. 

A  Supplement  of  forty  pages  contains  a  history  of  the  Naval  Operations  of  the 
Revolution;  of  the  Diplomacy  ;  of  the  Confederation  and  Federal  Constitution; 
the  Prisons  and  Prison  Ships  of  New  York;  Lives  of  the  Signers  of  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence,  and  other  matters  of  curious  interest  to  the  historical  student. 

A  new  and  very  elaborate  analytical  index  has  been  prepared,  to  which  we  call 
special  attention.  It  embraces  eighty-five  closely  printed  pages,  and  possesses 
rare  value  for  every  student  of  our  revolutionary  history.  It  is  in  itself  a  com- 
plete synopsis  of  the  history  and  biography  of  that  period,  and  will  be  found  ex- 
ceedingly useful  for  reference  by  every  reader. 

As  a  whole,  the  work  contains  all  the  essential  facts  of  the  early  history  of  our 
Republic,  which  are  scattered  through  scores  of  volumes  often  inaccessible  to  the 
great  mass  of  readers.  The  illustrations  make  the  whole  subject  of  the  American 
Revolution  so  clear  to  the  reader  that,  on  rising  from  its  perusal,  he  feels  thorough- 
ly acquainted,  not  only  with  the  history,  but  with  every  important  locality  made 
memorable  by  the  events  of  the  war  for  Independence,  and  it  forms  a  complete 
Guide-Book  to  the  tourist  seeking  for  fields  consecrated  by  patriotism,  which  lie 
scattered  over  our  broad  land.  Nothing  has  been  spared  to  make  it  complete,  re. 
liable,  and  eminently  useful  to  all  classes  of  citizens.  Upward  of  THIRTY-FIVE 
THOUSAND  DOLLARS  were  expended  in  the  publication  of  the  first  edition. 
The  exquisite  wood-cuts,  engraved  under  the  immediate  supervision  of  the  author, 
from  his  own  drawings,  in  the  highest  style  of  the  art,  required  the  greatest  care 
in  printing.  To  this  end  the  efforts  of  the  publishers  have  been  directed,  and  we 
take  great  pleasure  in  presenting  these  volumes  as  the  best  specimen  of  typogra- 
phy ever  issued  from  the  American  press. 

The  publication  of  the  work  having  been  commenced  in  numbers  before  its 
preparation  was  completed,  the  volumes  of  the  first  edition  were  made  quite  un- 
equal in  size.  That  defect  has  been  remedied,  and  the  work  is  now  presented  in 
two  volumes  of  equal  size,  containing  about  780  pages  each. 


COMPLETION  OF  GEOTE'S  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


A  HISTORY   OF   GREECE, 

FROM  THE  EARLIEST  PERIOD  TO  THE  CLOSE  OF  THE  GENERA- 
TION CONTEMPORARY  WITH  ALEXANDER  THE  GREAT. 

BY  GEORGE  GROTE,  ESQ. 

Vol.  XII.  contains  Portrait,  Maps,  and  Index.    Complete  in  12  vols.  12mo, 
Muslin,  $9  00  ;  Sheep,  $12  00  ;'Half  Calf,  $15  00. 

It  is  not  often  that  a  work  of  such  magnitude  is  undertaken  ;  more  seldom  still 
is  such  a  work  so  perseveringly  carried  on,  and  so  soon  and  yet  so  worthily  ac- 
complished. Mr.  Grote  has  illustrated  and  invested  with  an  entirely  new  signifi- 
cance a  portion  of  the  past  history  of  humanity,  which  he,  perhaps,  thinks  the  most 
splendid  that  has  been,  and  which  all  allow  to  have  been  very  splendid.  He  has  made 
great  Greeks  live  again  before  us,  and  has  enabled  us  to  realize  Greek  modes  of  think- 
ing. He  has  added  a  great  historical  work  to  the  language,  taking  its  place  with 
other  great  histories,  and  yet  not  like  any  of  them  in  the  special  combination  of 
merits  which  it  exhibits  :  scholarship  and  learning  such  as  we  have  been  ac- 
customed to  demand  only  in  Germans  ;  an  art  of  grouping  and  narration  different 
from  that  of  Hume,  different  from  that  of  Gibbon,  and  yet  producing  the  effect  of 
sustained  charm  and  pleasure  ;  a  peculiarly  keen  interest  in  events  of  the  political 
order,  and  a  wide  knowledge  of  the  business  of  politics  ;  and,  finally,  harmonizing 
all,  a  spirit  of  sober  philosophical  generalization  always  tending  to  view  facts 
collectively  in  their  speculative  bearing  as  well  as  to  record  them  individually. 
It  is  at  once  an  ample  and  detailed  narrative  of  the  history  of  Greece,  and  a  lucid 
philosophy  of  Grecian  history. —  London  Athenceum,  March.  8,  1856. 

Mr.  Grote  will  be  emphatically  the  historian  of  the  people  of  Greece. — Dublin 
University  Magazine. 

The  acute  intelligence,  the  discipline,  faculty  of  intellect,  and  the  excellent  eru- 
dition every  one  would  look  for  from  Mr.  Grote  ;  but  they  will  here  also  find  the 
element  which  harmonizes  these,  and  without  which,  on  such  a  theme,  an  orderly 
and  solid  work  could  not  have  been  written. — Examiner. 

A  work  second  to  that  of  Gibbon  alone  in  English  historical  literature.  Mr. 
Grote  gives  the  philosophy  as  well  as  the  facts  of  history,  and  it  would  be  difficult 
to  find  an  author  combining  in  the  same  degree  the  accurate  learning  of  the  schol- 
ar with  the  experience  of  a  practical  statesman.  The  completion  of  this  great 
work  may  well  be  hailed  with  some  degree  of  national  pride  and  satisfaction. — 
Literary  Gazette,  March,  8,  1856. 

The  better  acquainted  any  one  is  with  Grecian  history,  and  with  the  manner  in 
which  that  history  has  heretofore  been  written,  the  higher  will  be  his  estimation 
of  this  work.  Mr.  Grote's  familiarity  both  with  the  great  highways  and  the  ob- 
scurest by-paths  of  Grecian  literature  and  antiquity  has  seldom  been  equaled,  and 
not  often  approached,  in  unlearned  England ;  while  those  Germans  who  have  ri- 
valed it  have  seldom  possessed  the  quality  which  eminently  characterizes  Mr. 
Grote,  of  keeping  historical  imagination  severely  under  the  restraints  of  evidence. 
The  great  charm  of  Mr.  Grote's  history  has  been  throughout  the  cordial  admira- 
tion he  feels  for  the  people  whose  acts  and  fortunes  he  has  to  relate.  *  *  We  bid 
Mr.  Grote  farewell ;  heartily  congratulating  him  on  the  conclusion  of  a  work  which 
is  a  monument  of  English  learning,  of  English  clear-sightedness,  and  of  English 
Love  of  freedom  and  the  characters  it  produces.— Spectator. 

Endeavor  to  become  acquainted  with  Mr.  Grote,  who  is  engaged  on  a  Greek 
History.  I  expect  a  great  deal  from  this  production. — NIEBUHR,  the  Historian, 
to  Professor  LIBBER. 

The  author  has  now  incontestably  won  for  himself  the  title,  not  merely  of  a 
historian,  but  of  the  historian  of  Greece.— Quarterly  Review. 

Mr.  Grote  is,  beyond  all  question,  the  historian  of  Greece,  unrivaled,  so  far  as 
we  know,  in  the  erudition  and  genius  with  which  he  has  revived  the  picture  of  a 
distant  past,  and  brought  home  every  part  and  feature  of  its  history  to  our  intel- 
lects and  our  hearts. — London  Times. 

For  becoming  dignity  of  style,  unforced  adaptation  of  results  to  principles,  care- 
ful verification  of  theory  by  fact,  and  impregnation  of  fact  by  theory— for  extensive 
and  well-weighed  learning,  employed  with  intelligence  and  taste,  we  have  seen  no 
historical  work  of  modern  times  which  we  would  place  above  Mr.  Grote's  histo- 
ry.— Morning  Chronicle. 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS,  FRANKLIN  SQUARE,  N.  Y. 


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THE  OLD  REGIME 


THE    REVOLUTION. 


BY 


ALEXIS  DE  TOCQUEVILLE, 

*F  THE  ACADEMIE  FRANCAISK,  AUTHOR  OF  "  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 
TRANSLATED   BY 


JOHN    BONNE  R,    ESQ. 
12mo,  Muslin,  $1  00. 

A  calm,  philosophical  inquiry  into  the  causes  of  the  French  Revolution,  and 
the  working  of  the  Old  Regime.  In  this  work,  M.  de  Tocqueville  has  daguerreo- 
typed  French  political  society  under  the  old  monarchy  ;  shown  us  where  the  real 
power  lay,  and  how  it  affected  individual  Frenchmen  in  the  daily  avocations  of 
life ;  what  was  the  real  condition  of  the  nobility,  of  the  clergy,  of  the  middle 
classes,  of  the  "  people,"  of  the  peasantry  ;  wherein  France  differed  from  all  other 
countries  in  Europe ;  why  a  Revolution  was  inevitable.  The  information  de- 
rived under  these  various  heads,  it  may  safely  be  said,  is  now  first  printed.  It 
has  been  obtained,  as  M.  de  Tocqueville  informs  us,  mainly  from  the  manuscript 
records  of  the  old  intendants'  offices  and  the  Council  of  State.  Of  the  labor  de- 
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year's  researches. 

"  I  trust,"  says  M.  de  Tocqueville  in  his  Preface,  "  that  I  have  written  this 
work  without  prejudice ;  but  I  can  not  say  I  have  written  without  feeling.  It 
would  be  scarcely  proper  for  a  Frenchman  to  be  calm  when  he  speaks  of  his 
country,  and  thinks  of  the  times  in  which  we  live.  I  acknowledge,  therefore, 
that  in  studying  the  society  of  the  Old  Regime  in  all  its  details,  I  have  never  lost 
sight  of  the  society  of  our  own  day." 

The  work  abounds  with  allusions  to  the  Empire  and  the  Emperor.  It  need 
hardly  be  added,  that  these  allusions  are  not  eulogistic  of  the  powers  that  be. 
Napoleon  has  seldom  been  assailed  with  more  pungent  satire  or  more  cogent 
logic. 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS,  FRANKLIN  SQUARE,  N.  Y. 


By  William  C.   Prime. 


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The  Poets  of  the  Nineteenth  Century, 

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